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

Episode Date: December 11, 2023

The Wishing Horse of Oz by Ruth Plumly Thompson audiobook. Genre: fantasy Magic wishing emeralds mysteriously arrive in the little kingdom of Skampavia. King Skamperoo immediately confiscates them and wishes to become the Emperor of Oz, with his magic horse Chalk as his advisor. All the residents of Oz are enchanted to forget Ozma and their own rulers, except for Dorothy and Pigasus the flying pig. Can Dorothy and Pigasus break the enchantment and rescue Princess Ozma? Will they forge an unlikely alliance with the Gnome King? And who is the real owner and possessor of the secret of the wishing emeralds? The Wishing Horse of Oz is the twenty-ninth in the series of Oz books created by L. Frank Baum. For ad-free listening try our premium subscription Chapters (Approximate) (00:00:00) Chapter 00 (00:02:23) Chapter 01 (00:20:20) Chapter 02 (00:37:37) Chapter 03 (00:51:08) Chapter 04 (01:02:10) Chapter 05 (01:17:54) Chapter 06 (01:32:07) Chapter 07 (01:38:17) Chapter 08 (01:49:34) Chapter 09 (02:05:19) Chapter 10 (02:21:26) Chapter 11 (02:38:17) Chapter 12 (02:43:42) Chapter 13 (02:59:46) Chapter 14 (03:12:17) Chapter 15 (03:24:26) Chapter 16 (03:37:26) Chapter 17 (03:52:55) Chapter 18 (04:10:35) Chapter 19 (04:24:45) Chapter 20 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

The Wishing Horse of Oz by Ruth Plumley Thompson. Founded on and continuing the famous Oz stories by L. Frank Baum, Royal Historian of Oz. Dear boys and girls, what could be more interesting than an Oz mystery? What indeed? Why, I can almost hear you shout, two Oz mysteries, and here you have them in this newest Oz story, two very mysterious mysteries to solve and ponder over,

and so many new kingdoms and characters, I can hardly remember the proper spelling for their names. You will be glad to know that Dorothy has most of the strange adventures in this book. And remember Pegasus? Well, I have long suspected Pegasus could be useful as well as poetical. And now that he has so convincingly proved his prowess, how do you like that word, we'll have to treat him with more respect and dignity. Your letters all year have been grand, and if I had the magic necklace, mentioned in this story, I would wish you 365 days of happiness. But, after all, I have a magic necklace. Each boy or girl who reads the Oz books is one shining link in the friendly chain that

holds us all together. All friends and all for Oz. You believe in Oz and I'll believe in you. Oh, that's the stuff that's strong enough to make my wish come true. So happy year to you, dears. And next year, Oh well, who knows what will happen next year? Another Oz book, maybe, if you still want one. Write me if you do. And best of everything wonderful to you all, always. Ruth Plumley Thompson. This book is dedicated with pride and affection to Mabel Hammer Ashton,

whose gallant and adventurous spirit sweeps like a freshening breeze through my life, touching it again and again with colour, vigour, interest and gaiety. To Mabel. Ruth Plumley Thompson End of preface and dedication. Chapter 1 of the Wishing Horse of Oz by Ruth Plumley Thompson. This Librevox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Beth Thomas.

Chapter 1. The King of Scampavia. Is this all? The King of Scampavia frowned at the great stack of bags, bales, crates and carriers heaped around his throne. Leaning forward, he did. Indially extracted a fig from one of the baskets and popped it into his enormous mouth. Pah, dry as a blotter, spluttered the red-faced ruler, gritting his teeth with disgust. And look at those coconuts, no big around than a baby's rattle!

Leaping off his throne, he began kicking at the baskets of vegetables and bales of cotton and other merchandise. What dusty junk is this? He raged, glaring furiously at Piny Penny, his patient. Prime Minister. How dare they send me such stuff! Clasping and unclasping his hands nervously, Piny Penny nevertheless spoke up boldly. Because they have nothing better, Your Majesty. What can our poor subjects do with land so unprofitable and barren? Then not only must they produce enough for their own needs, but are required by law to give one third of all they raise to the crown.

And why not? Blustered Scamperew, settling back argumentation. on his throne. I am the king. You can't get around that, you know. No, sighed Piny Penny, and drawing aside one of the shabby curtains he looked sorrowfully out into the courtyard. What's all that racket?

Demanded his master, as a medley of shouts, roars, and dull thuds came rolling up to them. Forgetting his anger for a moment, he bounded to his feet and came across the room to look over Piny Penny's shoulder. A slight argument seems to have arisen among the supervisors, murmured Piny Penny resignedly.

Now, Scampavia, I must tell you, is roughly divided into seven counties, and over each county Scamparoo had set a supervisor, whose duty it was to govern the province and to turn over to him one-third of all produce and merchandise in that county. To save time, and easily identify them, the supervisors were known by the size of the counties they governed. For instance, the supervisor of the first county, which was one mile wide and ten miles long, was called one by ten. The supervisor of the second county, two by four. The others were variously known as three by six, nine, eight by eight, five by nine, and four by seven. Twice a year, the supervisors rode into the capital with their tribute, and now down in the courtyard, the seven tremendous scampavians

were in a perfect pitched battle, helped out by all the guards and palace servants. Argument! roared the king, slapping pinny-penny rudely on the shoulder. It's a fight, and you know it. Just look at the good-for-nothing rascals. I tell you, old two pins. However poorly they serve us as farmers and merchants, our scampavians can certainly fight.

And who says I'm too hard on them? Have I not given every man Jack a dress, uniform and gun, and made them learn military drilling and marching at the Royal College? And what use is all this drilling and marching? inquired Piny Penny wearily. Letting the curtain fall he hurried away, for well he knew, if he did not put a stop to the conflict in the courtyard, every window in the palace would be broken. Now what did he mean by that?

muttered Scamparoo peevishly, as his little Prime Minister whisked out of sight. Persing his lips, he seated himself heavily on his throne. After all, Piny Penny had only spoken the truth. Why had his father, or his father's father, ever picked out this? pesky little country in the first place. Located in the southern part of the desert of Norland, between the kingdoms of Ix and Merriland, scampavia, he was forced to admit, had neither riches, beauty nor interest. His castle, though poor and shabby, was comfortable enough, and having lived in it all his life, he was used to it. He had put up with the hot-dry climate and the

poor quality of the food, but, after all, why should he continue to do so? In those long-ago days in the schoolroom, he had studied of energetic rulers who had taken their armies and gone forth to conquer richer and more desirable lands from their neighbours. Well then, why should not he take his men, push over the border into a more fertile and kindly land? The idea pleased, but at the same time annoyed him. Scampereu was fat and lazy. He loved quiet and ease, and the thought of a hard military campaign made him shudder with distaste. Still, he reflected, remembering Piny Peney Penny's reproachful face, a king should do something for his subjects, and the more he did for them, ho, ho, the more he could make them do for him. A rich and prosperous country meant a rich and

prosperous ruler. Discontentedly fingering the rough cloth from which his royal robes were fashioned, he began to picture himself decked out in splendid satins and velvets heavily encrusted with jewels. Jules, pah! All the jewels he had were his plain gold scepter, badly dented and bent from hurling it pinny-penny. Taking off the crown he scowled at it critically, and began considering the realms on either side of his own dominions. To the north, there was nothing but a sandy strip of desert, and the tossing waters of the non-nestic ocean. East lay the kingdom of Ix, and Zixie, the little queen he considered too pleasant and friendly to conquer. Besides, the climate of Ix was not much better than that of his own country. To the west of Scampavia was Merriland, and at one time,

a band of his roistering scampavians had crossed over into that country bent on theft and mischief. Recalling the way they had been welcomed and entertained by the cheerful King of Merriland and sent home simply laden with presents, he hastily dismissed that country too. How could he fight a monarch like that? To the south lay the burning sands of the deadly desert, which no man in his own kingdom had ever succeeded in crossing. So, having exhausted all the possibilities of the immediate neighbourhood, Scamparoo tapped his foot in vexation and began casting about in his mind for some fair and far away country to conquer.

He closed his eyes in order to think better and was just on the point of falling into a pleasant dose of riches and conquest when Piny Penny came noisily into the room. He was preceded by two of the king's supervisors, who, urged forward by the fearless little Prime Minister, stood sulkily and defiantly before the throne. Well, what now? demanded Scamperew, blinking his eyes sleepily. Can you not handle these arguments yourself, Piny-Penny. He's a king to have no rest or privacy at all.

Instead of answering, Pinny-Penny took a small cotton bag from the tallest of the supervisors and handed it silently to the king. Still half asleep, Scamperew untied the drawstring of the small bag and emptied the contents into his fat hand. What he saw there made his eyes fly open, wide open, Jewels, the very thing for which he had been wishing. Emeralds! gasped the king, rubbing the glittering necklace between his fingers.

Where did you get this two by four? They were sent to your majesty by a merchant in the second county, who got them from a travelling peddler. The peddler had got them from a guillican, who had got them from a quadling, who had got them from a munchkin, who had once lived in the Emerald City of Oz. Oz!

snapped the king, sitting up very straight. Where is Oz? Oz is a great and powerful kingdom on the other side of the deadly desert, answered two by four, looking uneasily over his shoulder at Piny-Penny. Then how did this peddle across the desert? Demanded Scampereu, holding the necklace up to the light, and feasting his eyes greedily on its gleaming emeralds. That I cannot say.

Two by four cast a longing glance the door, heartily wishing himself on the other side. Then perhaps you will tell us why you did not turn this necklace over to the king, suggested Piny Penny mournfully. Yes, how dared you keep it? panted Scamperew indignantly. And what are you gaping at, three by six? I'll wager you were in this too.

He was, shouted two by four hoarsely. He tried to steal the jewels from me. That's how he got the black eye. But you tried to steal them from me, and what a about that, my fine fellow." Two by four turned a painful and uncomfortable scarlet under the king's accusing eye. "'In Scampavia we have so little, your majesty,' he stuttered miserably. "'With these emeralds I thought I might buy a bit of land in some cooler and more

comfortable country, where my wife and two boys could be happy, a country where flowers would grow in a garden, and where a man would not have to spend his whole life, wrestling with rocks and weeds and drilling for hours in the hot sun for no reason whatever. Ha! exclaimed Piny Penny, looking meaningly at the king. Ha, yourself, grunted Scamparoo wrathfully. Then, as the emeralds continued to sparkle and glitter in his hand, his anger subsided. You did very wrong to keep the necklace two by four, he stated mildly. But I have decided to forgive you.

Return now to the second county. and explained to the merchant who gave you this necklace that I must have all three. All three? exclaimed two by four. But he's entitled by law to two of them. My word is the law here, and you can choose between a broken law or a broken head. Scampereu told him calmly. He is the king, murmured Piny Penny in a quiet voice.

There was nothing sarcastic in the manner of his speech, but something in the prime minister's expression made the king prickle all over with discomfort. Yes, I am the king, he shouted explosively. And, moreover, I have spoken. Begone, both of you, and you, two by four, have two days to return with those two necklaces. The necklaces or your head, do you understand? And, uh, uh, you might tell that merchant in your county that he needs to send no more

of his wares to the capital. The three necklaces will suffice. He bellowed as the two supervisors went bolting through his. the door. How nice! They will suffice. You are the king, sniffed Piny-Penny with a sour smile. Are you a parrot or a prime minister? Stop repeating that silly stuff, and tell me about Oz, commanded Scamperew, clasping the emerald necklace around his fat throat. Have you ever heard of this place, Piny Penny? It must be a rich and marvellous country if peddlers can trade emerald necklaces as carelessly as we trade wooden beads.

It is a marvellous country, answered Piny Penny thoughtfully. I remember my father telling me about the capital of Oz, an emerald city, where even the streets were inlaid with jewels, and every tower and wall was studded with emeralds. Well, why have I never been told about this? weased the king peevishly. A country like that, just a precious stone throwaway, so to speak? Your Majesty has never cared for reading or study. Piny Penny reminded him a bit maliciously. In our library there is a whole history of Oz.

"'Fetch it! Fetch it! Bring it to me at once!' panted the king, bouncing up and down on his throne like a big bad baby, which in truth he was. "'I must discover why Oz is so rich and prosperous, while we are so poor and unfortunate.' "'Not so unfortunate and poor as we are unwise and greedy,' stated Piny-Penny, stalking calmly across the room. "'If your majesty would study ways to improve scampavia and allow your subjects to keep a fair share of their crops and merchandise, we might be a powerful country too.

Nonsense! What can we do with a rocky little desert like this? Blustered Scamparoo contemptuously. Scampavia is a dull little kingdom, a dumb little kingdom, a king dumb, that's a good name for it. And you? muttered Piny Penny under his breath as he hastened away to fetch the book on Oz. Returning, he plumped the fat volume down on the king's knees, and stood back with folded arms.

Well, well, do you expect me to read all this? Whaled Scamperew and dismay. Why, would take a year or more? Explain it to me, Penny, Penny. Just give me the gist of the matter. Just give me the gist. There, I've made a joke. I've made a joke.

But Oz is no joke, said the Prime Minister shortly. Your Majesty had better get that through your head at once. Now attend closely, and I will endeavour to give you the most important facts about this rich and enchanting country across the desert. In the first place, Penny Penny looked severely over his specs. Oz is about fifty times as large as Scampavia, a great oblong undulating country divided into four triangular kingdoms. Each of these kingdoms has its own ruler, but all four are subject to the rule of Osma of Oz, whose capital, the Emerald City, is in the exact

centre of Oz. A girl? exclaimed Scampereu, leaning forward excitedly. How can a mere girl rule over an important country like that? By using her heart as well as her head, by encouraging thrift and rewarding industry, announced Piny Penny in a tone that made the king wince. Your Majesty would do well to read of her wise laws and plans for the betterment of her country.

You may just skip all of that, sniffed Scamperew, closing his mouth stubbornly. Tell me, who are the rulers of these four kingdoms and the general customs and characteristics of the people. Closing his eyes and putting his fingertips together, Piny Penny began solemnly. The northmost country of Oz is the land of the Gillikins, famed for its luscious grapes, plums, wisteria and heather. It is a purple country and is ruled over by Joe King and Queen Hyacinth,

who live in an amethyst trimmed castle high in the Gillican mountains. The Eastern Empire of Oz is a yellow country, known for its wheat, corn, butter, pumpkins, daffodils and gold mines. Nick Chopper is the Emperor of the Winkies, and this singular ruler is made entirely of tin plate, and celebrated in song and story as the tin woodman of Oz. Piny Penny paused a moment to catch his breath, and then continued quietly, The Southland is red, and noted for its strawberries, tomatoes, beets, red birds, red wood, and red heads. Glinda, the good sorceress, governs the quadlings who make up its inhabitants,

and she knows as much magic as Osma herself. Oh, it's one of those magic places where one just snaps the fingers to get what he wants. sighed the king discontentedly. Well, well, go on. The western country of Oz is blue, continued Piny Penny obligingly. And everyone has heard of its famous Blue Ridge Mountains,

its blue birds, its violets, its blue skies, and its capital, the Sapphire City. Chirio Bed is king, and Orrin is queen of the Muntkins, and they live in the Sapphire City, in almost as much magnificence as Osma in the Emerald City. Is that all you wish to know? About the army? muttered Scamparu, wrinkling up his forehead.

Has this girl ruler a great army stationed at her capital? Piny Penny grinned in spite of himself. The young fairy ruler of Oz is opposed to all wars and fighting, and has at her court an army consisting of one tall soldier with green whiskers. He explained hurriedly. One soldier with green whiskers? shouted the king. nearly tumbling off his throne.

I never heard anything more ridiculous in my life. I thought you said Oz wasn't a joke, and yet you stand there and tell me about an army of one soldier? Why, that's the funniest thing I ever heard. Laugh if you wish, said Piny Penny resignedly. But don't forget that Osma has more magic appliances at her fingertips than we have pebbles on our desert. In her palace lives the famous Wizard of Oz,

who can work every sort of transformation and enchantment, but does so only for the good of the country. Hmpf! exclaimed the king, well, how many fighting men have we? Seven hundred scampavian soldiers in each of the seven counties, answered Penny-Penny reluctantly. But let me warn your majesty that the idea you have in your head is sheer madness and will lead to nothing but ruin. Take off your crown, put on your nightcap and dream away this foolishness. And a fine-looking crown it is, snapped the king, snatching off his crown and looking at it angrily. But these emeralds will brighten it up a bit, eh, Piny-Penny?

It is not the sparkle of gems in a king's crown that count. It is the jewels of wisdom in the head under the crown that make him happy and well-beloved. Stop! Enough! yelled the king, hurling the crown with all his might at Piny-Penny. When will you stop this infernal lecturing and scolding? "'When your majesty stops talking nonsense?' "'Side Piny, catching the crown with one hand "'and pulling a long bell-cord with the other.

"'Come now, let us have our tea and forget about Oz,' "'he proposed calmly. "'Lemon or cream, Your Highness?' "'Lemon!' growled the King's sally, "'and slapping open the book of history on his knees, "'he stared long and enviously "'at a picture of the Emerald City of Oz. "'Eend of Chapter 1.

"'Chapter 2 of the Wishing Horse of Oz by Ruth Plumley Thompson. This Libravox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 2. The King and the Merchant Two days had passed since Scampereau had come into possession of the emerald necklace. He had never taken it off for a moment. He even wore it to bed, and spent most of the daytime admiring himself and it in the palace mirrors.

Now, as the afternoon of the second day due to a close, he kept bouncing over to the windows that commanded a view of the highway. If that rascal does not turn up soon, I'll, I'll. Explode, probably, predicted Piny Penny, who was playing solitaire with the only pack of cards the castle afforded. Calm yourself, Scamper. What good are these emeralds when you come right down to it? Good, good!

They are worth more than this whole miserable castle, answered the king indignantly. I can sell them and buy, No, no, I'll never part with them. He corrected himself hastily. They give me a feeling of importance and power. Our star has risen, Penny Penny. Great days are ahead, hark.

Listen, is that a footstep in the courtyard? Darting back to the window, the portly monarch flattened his nose against the pain. It's two by four, he shouted, hopping up and down like a schoolboy. And there's a tall-bearded stranger with him. If your majesty will quietly seat yourself, I'll endeavour to announce them. reproved Piny Penny gathering up his cards. Remember, you are a king and not a jumping jack. Oh, all right.

Scamparoo flung himself heavily down among his cushions, and presently the tramp of feet along the corridor proclaimed the arrival of the long-awaited supervisor. Piny Penny advanced stiffly to meet him, and after a whispered conversation, he called out in a bored voice, Two by four, Governor of our Second Province, and Matia the Merchant, Your Majesty. Yes, yes.

Yes, but where are the emeralds? Panted Scamperew, leaning forward eagerly as the two travellers advanced respectfully to the throne. Drawing a small bag from his leather jerkin, two by four held it sullenly out to the king. Here, your majesty, and here also is the merchant who goes with the necklace. Two by four haughtily indicated the turban scampavian beside him. Yes, yes, the merchant! The king, intent upon the jewels, did not even look up. goes with the necklaces, you say? Well, ha ha, now he may go without them. That is all I require of you,

my good fellow. Your presence here is not necessary or desirable. You may go. Go. Do you understand? Go? Matia drew himself up to his fullest height, which was pretty high, I can tell you. Perhaps your majesty will suggest weir. For these three necklaces, I traded my house, my shops, and all my other possessions. You say that is all, and it is indeed. "'Since you have taken all I own and possess, "'your majesty must take me also. "'You owe me a living, and I am here to say so.' "'Say no more,' put in penny-penny soothingly.

"'Matia is right, Scampereau, and well within his rights as well. "'We must make a place for him in the palace.' "'What can you do?' he inquired practically. "'Do?' "'The merchant opened his eyes very wide. "'Do? I am a merchant, accustomed to dealing in jewels. China, cloth and basketware. Then you'll be the very one to help out in the kitchen and laundry,

proposed Piny Penny brightly. There are no jewels, but we have onions and potatoes are plenty, and with the dirty dishes and hampers of soil linens, you'll be right at home. What? screamed Matia, as two by four snickered behind his hand. You require this menial toil of me, Matia, son of Metora, son of Medanik,

merchants for these thousands of years, this is preposterous and outrage. I will go. I will go indeed. I will start a war, an uprising, a revolution. Help, help, help, help! yelled the merchant shrilly. The king has stolen my emeralds. Stop, stop, not so loud, begged Scamperew, leaping agilely off his throne and pattering anxiously after Matia. You may leave us, Piny Penny. I think I can find some. something better than kitchen work for this honest citizen. Hmm, snorted Piny-Penny, and motioning for two-by-four to follow him, he marched disapprovingly from the royal presence.

You mustn't mind, old Penny, puffed the king, dropping a bit breathlessly on his throne. There, there now, sit down and make yourself comfortable. As I was saying, Piny-Penny has very odd notions at times. Very odd, agreed Matia, and seating himself on a chair opposite the king, He fastened his eyes greedily on the sparkling chains, now clasped firmly about the monarch's fat throat. Now then we must find something easy and pleasant for you, went on the king, scratching one ear reflectively.

You might, uh, you might spend your time entertaining me. I'll wager you are just full of good stories, songs and amusing tricks. Tricks? exclaimed the merchant, elevating his nose disdainfully. Then a sudden gleam. came into his small black eyes. Tricks! He repeated more pleasantly.

Ah, your majesty is right. How well you have guessed my secret! Leaning forward, he held up his hand to his mouth, and looking furtively over his shoulder, whispered hoarsely, I am a magician king, and well versed in the arts of sorcery. Sorcery! cried Scamperew, clasping himself delightedly about his middle. How powerful!

perfectly panormic. Magic is the very thing we need around here. Tell me quickly, what can you do? How much magic do you know? Is there someplace where we can be quite alone? Matia held up his hand mysteriously. No one must know I am a magician. It must be a secret between us. Of course, of course, agreed the king, rolling off his throne with more speed than dignity. Come to my private walled garden. No one can hear us there. No one? asked Mathia sharply, "'Are there then, no guards upon the wall?' "'No guards, no servants, no one at all is allowed in my garden,'

the king assured him proudly. "'And there is a door in the garden's wall?' Matia, stroking his long beard, stood regarding the king thoughtfully. "'My first trick requires a door.' "'Of course there's a door, or how should I get in and out myself? "'Come along, come along.' Waddling into the corridor, Scamparu started off at a quick trot for his private garden. Matia, grinning wickedly to himself, stepped softly after the king.

Once in the garden, he meant to have his necklaces, even if he had to take off the king's head to get them. One sweep of my scimitar, murmured the merchant to himself. Oh, this is too easy. The king's garden when they reached it was no more than a small sandy square with some cactus plants in the centre, and a rickety bench along the wall. Seating himself heavily on the bench, Scamparoo made room for the merchant beside him. Now then, he grunted hurriedly.

Begin, show me what you can do. Prove that you are a magician. First, I must have the necklaces, stated Matia calmly. Without the emeralds, I cannot do a single trick. But if the magic is in the emeralds, I can be my own magician, answered Scamperew, clutching the chains

with both hands. But your majesty is not a magician, Mathia told him reasonably. You do not know the proper words or incantations. No, I myself must wear these magic jewels. And what harm is there in that? As soon as your wish is granted, I will hand them straight back to you.

What's that? Can you really grant wishes? Scamperu's eyes began to snap and dance with greed and interest. Certainly, "'Promised Mathia, blinking shrewdly across the square, "'and estimating with his eye the distance he should have to run "'to reach the door in the garden wall. "'All you have to do is to think of something you want.

"'Cose your eyes, count slowly to a hundred, "'and I, wearing the three necklaces, "'will easily grant your wish. "'I thought you thrust at me in that we were going to be friends,' "'he finished reproachfully. "'We were, um, that is, here.' Take them. Unclasping the heavy chains, Scampereau, who already had a wish in mind, thrust them into the merchant's hands. Closing his eyes, he made his wish, and then began to count

hysterically. One, two, three, four, five, six. At six, Matia was halfway across the garden, when horrors, a great white horse with a golden tail and mane dropped like a plummet from the sky. Pouring up the sand in Martia's path, he flashed his yellow eyes so wickedly, the merchant fell back into the cactus bushes, where he lay screaming with shock, pain and amazement. But Scamparoo, thinking all the noises he heard were but magic incantations, went calmly on with his counting. He had reached 60 before Matia had recovered himself enough to crawl out of the cactus and make his way cautiously back to the bench. The immense white horse continued to stare at him threateningly. But as it made no attempt to spring forward, he began to regain a little of his usual assurance and courage.

Great Garoo! Then there was magic in the emeralds. This horse was undoubtedly the king's wish come through, a beastly wish. Shuddered the merchant, as he stared in fascination at the pawing monster and wondered what to do next. He was afraid to run past the white horse and escape with the jewels, but, ha, he could make a wish for himself, a wish that would carry him and he would carry him and the emeralds far from scampavia, the further the better.

Closing his eyes, he muttered a hurried sentence, and waited tensely to be transported to Ev, a country he had once visited in his youth. But nothing at all happened, and gritting his teeth with vexation, Matia opened his eyes just as Scampereu finished counting to a hundred. So, beamed the delighted monarch, embracing him heartily. You have done it.

You really are a magician. Behold my horse. A horse in a thousand. A golden-maned charger. Fit for a king. For a conqueror. Of all the dumb things, fumed Matia, wiggling fiercely away from Scamperu. Of all the dumb things to wish for, a horse is about the dumbest of all. Dumb? We need the white steed with an indignant snort. I'm not a dumb beast. I can laugh. I can talk. That's because of the white. I'm from Oz, and my full name is chalk. Chalk? Quivered Scamparoo, who had never heard an animal

speak a word in his life. He says his name's chalk. The king looked appealingly at the merchant, and seeing that he would have to live up to the role of the magician, Matia assumed an air of careless superiority. Well, he doubtless knows his own name, Your Majesty. If he says his name is Chalk? It probably is chalk. And the reason he can talk is because he comes from Oz, land of the magic necklaces, where all animals speak as well as we do. Better, sniffed Chalk. Then, taking an experimental nibble at the cactus, he gave a terrific squeal of pain and displeasure, flung up his heels and began to race around the garden at such a furious pace, Matia and the king jumped behind the bench and cowered miserably against the wall.

"'Well, there you are,' panted the merchant angrily. "'You have your horse, and what now? "'He's yours, you know, and you will have to control him.' "'Matiah ducked behind the king as chalk thundered past, "'covering them both with dust and sand. "'If you ask me, you simply wasted a wish. "'Why, you might have wished yourself a ton of emeralds, "'or a kingdom ten times as large and prosperous as scampavia,

"'or—' "'But there's plenty of time for that,' Sputtered Scamparoo, holding desperately to the bench. Since you are a magician, you can grant all of my wishes. Oh, no, no, indeed, Martia spoke hastily, remembering the way the emeralds had failed to grant his wish. I can grant only one wish a week, he explained breathlessly, and I trust next time you will think before you wish. Oh, there, you Aussian brute, you silly monster, stop that, whoa, ho, whoa, I tell you. Are you my master?

Leaping lightly over the cactus, Chalk came to a sudden halt before the bench. No, this king is your master, answered Mathia, thankfully enough. Speak to him, Scampur, he urged in a lower voice, as Chalk reared curiously up on his hind legs to have a good look at the king. Behave yourself, commanded Scamperutifully. How do you expect me to ride on your back if you act like this? Ah ha ha ha, ha. So you expect to ride me?

Chalk came down with a thud and grinned broadly at his new master. If you have never seen a horse grin, you have no idea how upsetting it can be. Well, I suppose I shall have to put up with you. He neighed finally. Just call a groom or a servant, old rubber tub, and see that I'm served my evening oats, three apples and a measure of corn. Certainly, certainly, agreed the king, starting off on trembling legs. Well, I must say, this is splendid.

splendid, protested Matya, hurrying nervously after the king. He was afraid to stay in the garden with chalk. Where do you expect to get? Taking orders from a horse? I suppose you'd prefer me to take them from you, puffed Scampereu, beginning to grow a little angry himself.

Here, give me my necklaces. Snatching the emeralds from the merchant's neck, he went charging into the palace, hardly knowing whether to be glad or sorry for the sudden change in his fortunes. But by the time he reached his chest, throne room, he had calmed down considerably. Seating himself hurriedly on his throne, he pondered how he could keep all these strange occurrences from Pinypenny. He felt sure Piny Penny would never approve of magic

necklaces or a talking horse. Well now, he'd just tell his meddlesome Prime Minister that the stamping, snorting steed in the garden belonged to Matya, and must be fed and stable. When he made another wish, and he had a whole week to think about that, when he made another wish, he would be careful to wish for everything he needed. As for this whiskery wizard, he would flatter him along until he discovered the right magic to use with the emeralds. Then he would wish him away like that, like that! Snapping his fingers spitefully,

Scamperoo pulled the long bellcord that summoned Piny-Penny. His royal charger should be fed. Not many monarchs had a talking horse with a golden mane. Aho, he was coming on. He'd show Piny-Penny yet what a smart ruler he was. Now Matya, following the king slowly into the palace, had done some reflecting too. He resolved not to lose his temper again with this provoking simpleton of a sovereign. He would simply humour him along, and before the week was out,

he would have another chance to steal the necklaces and escape to some far country. There, at his leisure, he would experiment until he discovered the right way to use them. He could not understand why the king had got his wish, and his own wish had gone for nothing. what was the secret of the magic emeralds? With his forehead still wrinkled in thought, Matia entered the throne room and quietly seated himself in a chair opposite Scampereau. Much to his relief,

the king neither reproached nor upbraided him. Ah, so there you are! He cried in his best, meant to be cheerful voice. I have just sent Pinypenny to feed your horse. My horse? Barked Matia, starting up in dismay, then catching a meaning wink from the king, king, he quickly winked back.

It seemed wisest, murmured Scampereu, to say nothing of your magic powers for the present. All this will be our secret, he finished playfully. Ah, yes, yes, indubitably. While Scampere was still wondering what indubitably meant, Matia hurried out of the room and took a long drink of water from an old-fashioned fountain in the hall. Our secret, he repeated bitterly to himself. Our secret indeed.

End of chapter two. Chapter 3 of the Wishing Horse of Oz by Ruth Plumley Thompson. This Librevox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Beth Thomas. Chapter 3. More about the Emeralds. Scampereau had not slept a wink. He tossed from side to side of the royal bed, his head simply buzzing with enchanting plans for the future.

With the magic emeralds he could have everything he desired, and his desires and wishes were multiplying so rapidly, he scarcely knew where to begin or what to wish first. The necklaces pressed uncomfortably against his throat, but he would not take them off. He was so weary he ached in every bone, but still he could not stop thinking. And just as the castle clock told seven,

the very thing he should wish for first came suddenly to him. Ah, that was it. Too bad he had to wait a whole week, but a week would pass, and perhaps during that time he would discover for himself the magic secret of his sparkling new treasures. Then he could be his own magician and put that meddlesome merchant in his place. As he was running over in his mind the possible places to send Mataya, the door of his room opened cautiously and pinny penny-penny stuck in his head. "'Well, well, and did I ring?' "'Grunted Scamparoo fretfully. "'This is a fine time to awaken an emperor.' "'Emperor!' exclaimed Piny Penny, "'coming all the way into the room and closing the door. "'Since when has Scampavia's king become an emperor?'

"'Oh, go away and don't bother me.' "'Turning his back on Piny Pennypenny, "'the king thumped his pillow and closed his eyes as tightly as he could. "'It's all about the horse,' whispered Piny Penny Penny, coming around to the other side of the bed. A strange and magnificent animal for a mere merchant, if I may be permitted to say so. Not only that, it talks.

It's ordering the stable boys around in a shocking manner, and it even told me to mind my own business. Well, why don't you? Suggested Scampereux, rolling over on his back. Of course he talks, Piny. He's an Oz horse, and all the animals from Oz talk. I thought you knew that.

Well, if this is a little bit of him. merchant has a talking horse, he is not so poor as he pretends, persisted Piny Penny, shaking his finger under the king's nose. My advice is to set the fellow on his horse and send him about his business as quickly as possible. I don't like his looks, Scamper. He's mean and mischievous, and mark my words, no good will come of him or his necklaces. I don't like his looks any better than you, agreed the king, clasping his fat hands on his stomach. But if I keep the emeralds, I must keep the merchant, and besides, I have a notion I could ride that talking horse myself. Oh, good goats and gravy. Then I'd best go and lay in a supply of

splints and liniment. Pushing his specks up on his forehead, Piny Penny cast a disgusted glance at his huge reclining master, and rushed hurriedly from the royal presence. Now, Mataya, as you can well imagine, had slept no better than the king. In the small room to which Piny Penny Penny had taken him, he paced restlessly up and down. After all, he knew only two facts about the magic emeralds. The first, that they really could, under certain conditions, grant wishes. The second, that they must not be worn by the person making the wish. This much the merchant had reasoned out for himself. As the king had got his wish while he, Mataya, was wearing the necklaces, and he himself had not got the wish he made with the emeralds around his own throat, that much seemed certain.

snapping his fingers joyfully and feeling sure the king was now wearing the jeweled chains, Mataya made a second wish, counting slowly to a hundred. But the hearty supper he had ordered as a test failed to appear, and flinging himself down on the bed, he began to rack his brains for some other solution of the mystery. Perhaps the magic power rested in a single stone, which he had luckily touched as the king made his wish. Holding his head with both hands, he tried to remember exactly, what he had done as Scampereau began to count, but it was no use. He could not recall a single thing after he had started to run across the garden. And how, concluded the infuriated fellow,

was he ever to discover the way to use the emeralds without arousing the king's suspicions, or revealing the fact that he knew no more about them than Scampereux himself? Muttering with vexation, he kicked a footstool all the way across the room, and sat staring morosely at the worn carpet. The short, uneasy nap he finally got before morning did him no good, and cross and jumpy as a cougar he made his way to the dingy dining hall of the palace. The king had already breakfasted, and looking out of the window, Mattaya saw a terrified servant leading the talking horse around the courtyard, Scamperew following at a safe distance. The sight of the stamping white charger made Mattiah shudder anew.

What a waste! reflected bitterly, and if the king grew fond of the saucy monster, it would make his own task even more difficult, for, until he succeeded in stealing the necklaces, Mataya did not intend to let Scamperoo out of his sight. Gulping down the weak coffee and cold eggs a shabby servant grudgingly placed before him, he hastened outside. "'Good morning, your majesty,' he called out heartily. "'And may I have a word with your royal highness.' "'What kind of a word?'

snickered chalk, rolling his yellow eyes roguishly round at the merchant. Give him a word, old robber-up, if that's all he wants. The right word for him, I should say, would be go or no, and then we could all be happy. It is about the necklaces, confided Mataya, ignoring the horse utterly, and falling easily into step with the king. They must be cleaned every day to keep them in good wishing condition. But I was just going for a ride, objected Scamperu, with a little frown,

"'Won't this afternoon do?' "'No, now is the proper time,' answered Mataya impressively, thinking how clever he was to have invented this roost to get hold of the emeralds. If your majesty will just give them to me, I'll polish them up while you are exercising. "'No, no, that is, I'd better come and help you,'

Scamperew spoke quickly. "'I can ride this afternoon.' "'You think so?' With an exuberant prance, chalk rose on his hind legs and spun around like a pinwheel. Well, see you later, old sauce. And with a terrified stable boy hanging to his bridle, he went galloping off to the stable.

If you'd take my advice, you'll have that creature knocked on the head, said Mattire savagely. Surely you won't endanger our lives by riding on his back. Our lives? exclaimed Scamperew looking at Mattia in surprise. You do not have to ride him. In fact, he's really my horse, he stated jealously. So long as your majesty wears the magic necklaces, I must go wherever you go, and do whatever you do,

explained the merchant loftily. Ah, how very awkward. In spite of himself, Scampereux groaned as he thought how tiresome it would be, with Mattire trailing after him all morning till night. I should think a magician like yourself could arrange things more sensibly. But consider what is at stake, Mataya reminded him earnestly. Together we can have and do anything we wish. Is that not worth a little inconvenience?

Yes, yes, I suppose so. But if we are to do everything together, I think I should know the magic wishing formula as well as you. Scampereux looked defiantly up at his newest advisor. That is impossible. Striding along stiffly, Mattia shook his head. the incantation once revealed becomes powerless. Only one versed in magic is permitted to use the emeralds.

Have you thought at all about your next wish? He asked, anxious to direct the king's mind into more cheerful channels. We should plan and consult about it together, you know. But wait until we are in your majesty's throne room. He added quickly, as Scamperew began to open and shut his mouth like a without saying anything. While I am cleaning the necklaces, we can talk it over, yes. Matthaya's fingers fairly itched for the sparkling jewels, but restraining a mad impulse to snatch them from the king's throat, he walked along quietly beside Scamperew, talking so calmly

and convincingly that he soon had the Scampavian monarch not only willing but anxious to reveal the wish that had kept him awake most of the night. First assuring himself that they were alone, locking the door so that they would not be disturbed, the king seated himself at a small table. Mataya drew up a chair opposite and held out his hand for the necklaces. Reluctantly, Scamperew handed them over, keeping a jealous eye on the jewels as the merchant began polishing them with a small square of silk he had taken from his pocket. As he rubbed the silk over the emeralds, Mataya carefully examined each one for some mark or sign that would give him a clue to their magic power.

intent as he was upon this task, a few low-spoken words of Scampereau made him sit suddenly erect and regard the king with a new respect and attention. How in thunderation, thought Mataya wonderingly, had this fat, silly monarch ever managed to hit upon such a magnificent and breathtaking wish? And as Scampereux explained and elaborated upon his plans and schemes for the future, the merchant's interest grew apace. quicker and cleverer than the king, he saw not only the possibilities of this splendid wish, but all the difficulties and problems that must be met and disposed of before it could be reasonably granted. Leaning forward, the emeralds for the moment forgotten, he put his mouth close to Scampereu's ear. There are three things that must be done before your wish can be realised. Mataya spoke tensely.

First. second third after each short whispered direction Scamperoo nodded to show that he understood Then it will take four wishes to do it He sighed resting his elbows heavily on the table That will be four weeks, won't it?

No, perhaps if we are careful We can work it all into one Answered Mataya thoughtfully And taking up his bit of silk he began polishing the emeralds with renewed vigor. The king, watching him, forgot his former dislike and distrust. Mataya's enthusiastic approval of his plans made him feel that perhaps he had misjudged this long-faced whiskered stranger.

Perhaps he would not wish him away, after all. He might prove very useful in the strange and magnificent future that stretched ahead. Mataya, on his part, had no such kindly intentions towards the king. He merely meant to make Scamperews wish his own, and so grand and daring was the prospect that he grew more impatient than ever to discover the way to accomplish it. Holding all three necklaces up to the light,

he squinted at them anxiously. The chains seemed identical in every respect, but no, what was this? One had a diamond clasp, while the clasps on the other two were of flattened emeralds. This then was the solution. The magic wishing power undoubtedly rested in the diamond clasp. Revealing in no way his satisfaction and elation over this important discovery,

Mataya handed the necklaces back to the king. Somehow, decided the merchant, he must make Scamperew touch the diamond clasp while he silently repeated the king's wish. But before that, he needed a little time to prepare himself for the grand and glorious years that were to be his. As Scampereau, exhausted by so much thinking early in the morning, waddled wearily over to his throne, Mattaya strode to the bookshelves, located in an adjoining alcove.

While your majesty rests, I will have a look at this interesting library, he murmured ingratiatingly, and at the same time store up some useful information for the future. Scamperew sleepily returned the merchant's broad wink, then, sinking back among his cushions, closed his eyes. From his chair in the alcove, Mataya could keep the king in view. And satisfied that Scamperoo was really asleep, he began hurriedly turning over the pages of the large volume Piny Penny had but that morning returned to the shelves. Soon he became so absorbed he forgot all about the king.

And that was a pity, for had he taken the trouble to look, he would have discovered that the king was no longer there. End of Chapter 3. Chapter 4 of The Wishing Horse of Oz by Ruth Plumley Thompson. This Libra Box recording is in the public domain. Recording by Beth Thomas. Chapter 4. The King and His Talking Horse Now it is true that the King had closed his eyes as Matia settled himself in the alcove to read,

but he was very far from sleep. In fact, no more than five minutes had been ticked away by the old-fashioned clock in the corner before Scamperew straightened up as if suddenly struck by lightning. Casting a cautious look at the quiet merchant, he began to slide rapidly towards the door. Opening it without a sound, he slipped out into the corridor, and closing it just as softly, went puffing away to the quarters of the white wishing horse at the back of the courtyard. Though usually unenterprising and dull, we must credit Scamperew with one brilliant idea. As Chalk had been brought to Scampavia by the magic emeralds,

why should he not know the trick of using them? Fairly panting with eagerness and impatience, Scamparoo jerked open the door of the stable and stepped recklessly into Chalk's stall. Ah, the little kingling! Winnie'd Chalk tossing his mane gaily. For some reason or other, he found his fat master tremendously amusing, and while he had an immediate desire to trample on Matia and frighten off the stable boys, he felt only an affectionate tolerance for the tubby little ruler of Scampavia. Have you come for your ride?

He inquired, giving the king a playful poke with his soul. nose. "'No, I've come to talk to you,' weased Scamparoo, seating himself carefully on an overturned water bucket. "'Quick, tell me all you know about these magic emeralds.' Touching his three necklaces with a trembling forefinger, the king looked imploringly into the face of his new and powerful steed. "'Humph!' Chalk shifted a mouthful of hay to his other cheek. "'Well, as to that, or rather them, all that I know is nothing. You forget that I only came into existence yesterday afternoon. Of course, of course, I was the one who wished you here,

explained the king impatiently. You wished me here? Mused chalk, staring meditatively at the comical figure on the water bucket. Well, I hardly know whether to thank you or to jump on you with all four feet. Even without any experience at all, I can see that this is no place for me. You're right, sighed Scamperew, clasping his knees dejectedly. It's no place for me either. That is why I must know about the emeralds. They can satisfy our every wish, and if we just knew how to use them, we could go away together.

You think you could manage that? Sniffed Chalk, who had his own opinion as to what would happen once the king mounted on his back. Yes, together, insisted Scamperew. Try to think. he begged earnestly. You say you know nothing. Then how did you know you came from Oz and your name and all that? That's right.

How did I? Putting one ear forward and one ear backward, chalk swallowed his hay with a quick gulp. There must be a lot of stuff in my head that I practically know nothing about. He reasoned thoughtfully. Suppose you tell me exactly what happened, and then I'll tell you what I think of it. So, hunching forward, Scamperew recounted the whole story of the merchant and the necklaces, how he and Matia had retired to his private garden, how there, with the merchant wearing the emeralds, his first wish had been granted.

And a splendid wish it was, too, sighed Scamperew, looking fondly up at his white horse. Never forget that you were my first wish, fellow. I'm hardly likely to forget myself, snickered chalk loftily. But attend closely, old crown. and scepter. When I dropped down into that garden, your whiskered merchant was running for the gate, as if his life depended on it. He only stopped because he was afraid to pass me, and from the way he fell into those cactus bushes, I'll wager he was astonished as you were that the emerald had granted your wish. Chalk wrinkled his forehead shrewdly. I don't believe he knows any more about

the necklaces than we do. If he did, he would never have sent you one in the first place. and he would have granted all his own wishes and been in some splendid other place. Martyr's a fraud, finished the king's horse vehemently, and means to steal back the emeralds. Oh, of course, of course. Oh, why didn't I think of that myself? What shall we do now? Whailed Scamperew, jumping up so quickly he overturned the bucket,

for chalk's frankly spoken opinion confirmed his own suspicions of the merchant. Sit down, advised the white horse not unkindly. I may not be a magician, but I have a little sense. And horse sense is what your majesty needs more than anything else. As Scamperoo righted the bucket and meekly sat down again, Chalk closed his eyes, standing silent and motionless for so long the king thought he had fallen into a trance.

But just as he began to fidget nervously about on the uncomfortable edge of the bucket, the white horse opened his eyes and flashing a triumphant smile at Scampers. Peru, began calling in a loud, lordly voice, boy, boy, boy! While the king regarded him with mingled misgivings and admiration, Chalk snapped out directions to the clumsy little groom who came running in answer to his summons. When his mane and tail had been thoroughly brushed, and he was decked out once more in the splendid saddle and trappings he had worn on his first appearance in Scampavia, he dismissed the groom with a haughty toss of his head.

Come, he breathed mysteriously. "'Clim up, Scamparoo, and we'll Scamporoodle "'before that rascally merchant even misses us. "'Have you decided upon the place we are to go?' "'He questioned curiously, "'as the king made seven frantic attempts "'to put his foot in the golden stirrup. "'The other foot, master,

"'how do you ever expect to mount that way? "'Stand on the bucket, king-ling. "'Catch hold of my saddle and pull. "'It's easy as oats once you get the hang of it.' "'Is it?' "'Lying mournfully on his bed. back where he had fallen after his last effort, Scamparoo gazed mournfully upward, and Chalk himself began to champ, snort, and switch his tail with irritation. You wished me on yourself,

and now it looks as if you would have to wish yourself on me, he muttered savagely. Here, give me those necklaces, hang them over my ear, and let's have done with this shameful exhibition. You mean, if I wish myself upon your back, I will really be there? panted Scamperew, bouncing up like a rubber ball. You mean you have discovered the secret of the emeralds? Certainly. The white horse regarded him scornfully through half-closed eyes, and the king, all too willing to be convinced,

unclasped his three necklaces, and standing on tiptoe hung them over chalk's right ear. I wish to be upon this creature's back, puffed Scamperew, his cheeks swelling out with suspense and importance. One, two, three, four, five, six, and scarcely had he begun to count before he found himself firmly seated in the saddle. Now, now, not another word, commanded chalk sternly. Before you dare to speak, take those emeralds off my ear.

With shaking hands the king did as he was told, his heart pounding so violently it almost kicked a hole in his shirt. That's right, directed the white horse more mildly. Now, suppose you tell me where you intend to wish us, and what we do after that. Wishes are pretty quick, you know, and it is best to be prepared. But I cannot understand how you made them work, spluttered Scamparoo. It's wonderful, it's marvellous. Do you understand what this means?

Perfectly. Chalk rolled his eyes triumphantly round at his greedy little master. My head seems to be full of magic, which is not strange, seeing that I was magically brought into existence, and the trick of the necklaces, once I got to thinking about them, is quite simple. Now, I am what I am, a horse, and quite satisfied, but you with these emeralds may easily make a jackass of yourself. So you had better tell me what you wish before you wish it. For instance, he went on reprovingly,

if, instead of wishing yourself upon my back, you had wished yourself a good horseman, how much wiser that would have been. There's a lot more to riding than getting into the saddle, you know. But never mind that now. What was this great big wish? You and Mathia were planning together. Leaning so far forward he almost lost his balance, Scamperew hurriedly whispered into Chalk's left ear

his grand and glorious wish for the future. Being careful to add to his own wish, the three crafty suggestions made by the clever merchant. Are you sure this is what you desire? Chalk looked sharply and a little sadly at the rotund and royal figure on his back. You mean to go away and leave your own people without a thought or care? Isn't there anyone here you would like to take along, or give a share of your good fortune? The king shook his head violently.

I might make a wish for pinny-penny, he added rather sheepishly. Good idea, sniffed Chalk. What are you going to give old skinny pins? You know, I rather like that old codger. Without delay, and a bit spitefully, the king told him. And, as this time Chalk found no fault with the wish, Scamperew again placed the emeralds over Chalk's ear, and quickly spoke nine words.

Then, without waiting to see where the Piny Penny got his wish, Chalk again took command. If you do exactly as I say, we'll get off before Mataya discovers you are gone, and comes down here to slice off your head to get his necklaces. said the white horse severely. Loaring his voice to a whisper, he slowly enunciated four brief sentences.

Tingling partly with fright and partly with anticipation, Scamperew repeated the four sentences after chalk and began his counting. But stars, scarcely had he reached ten before he felt a great lift and lurch, had just time to snatch back his emeralds and seize the reins before he and the huge white wishing horse, without leaving even a rustle in the quiet air,

had gone, vanished and completely disappeared from scampavia. End of Chapter 4. Chapter 5 of the Wishing Horse of Oz by Ruth Plumley Thompson. This Libra Box recording is in the public domain. Recording by Beth Thomas. Chapter 5. A great celebration in Oz. Why all the crown jewels, old Taz? Resting his chin on the window ledge,

Highboy looked inquiringly into the dressing room of Joe Kevier. king, ruler of the Gillikins, and all of the purple countries of Oz. The king's apartment was on the tenth floor of the royal palace, but this made no difference to Highboy, for Highboy was a giant horse whose telescope legs could be raised or lowered to any level, making him one of the most amazing and amusing animals in Oz. I say, are we going anywhere in particular? He drawled curiously, as the king, decked out in his best braided travelling coat and Amethyst Crown, surveyed himself cheerfully in the long mirror.

We? chuckled the merry monarch, turning around with a hearty roar. Ho ho! And how do you know you are going? Well, I see you are wearing your best purple boots, and when the king of all the Gillikins wears his best purple boots, he usually rides his best purple horse, does he not? Right, admitted the king good-naturedly.

And I might as well tell you at once that we are going to the capital, at the express invitation of her imperial highness, Queen Osmer of Oz. The king cleared his throat importantly. There is to be an immense festival to celebrate the discovery of Oz by mortals, the honours to be equally divided between the famous wizard who arrived here in a balloon from Omaha many years ago, and Little Dorothy, who came by way of a Kansas cyclone somewhat later. Not only will the rulers of all four Oz kingdoms be present,

but many other important and royal personages as well. Well, well indeed, trumpeted the giant horse shrilly. There you stand, all shined up like a doorknob, and never a word to me. How'll I look? Why wasn't I told before? When do we start? Just as soon as her majesty decides what to wear and what to take with her, answered the king with a solemn wink.

Oh, then I'll have bushels of time. Highboy sighed heavily with relief. So we're invited to the Emerald City, eh? How perfectly Perf! How simply make Niff! Billy! Tommy! Jim! As he called the name of each little groom, Highboy let himself down a couple of stories,

and by the time he reached a usual horse-heightened level on the ground, he had ordered himself a bath, a mainwave, an oil shampoo, and a hooficure. Indeed, Highboy's plans for the party went on apace, and with the three grooms pattering after him with Bucking. brushes and sponges, he trotted anxiously up and down his great airy stable, picking out his most splendid saddle and bridle and silver-braided blanket for the journey. The giant horse wished to make an impression that would uphold, if not enhance, the honour and reputation of the Gillikins.

He was eager to renew his friendship with Trot, a little mortal girl who lived in the palace, and with Herbie, the medicine man, and the many other interesting characters he had met on a former visit to the capital. In the munchkin, quadling and winky kingdoms, there was also a lively bustle and stir of preparation. And in many of the lesser kingdoms, the kings, queens and potentates made ready for the great spring festival in the Emerald City. And you can imagine the fun and excitement in the capital itself. Everyone had some special part in the programme.

Even the dogs and cats ran importantly about on countless errands like small messengers, their ears and tails quivering with interest and expectancy. After the visitors had been officially welcomed at the gates of the city, there was to be an imperial procession with bands, floats and favours for everybody. Then there were to be games, races and other exciting athletic events, and a grand banquet at the Royal Palace. A magic lanternball in Osmer's Garden would complete the festivities for the first day. For the second, pageants and tabloes depicting the important and historical events of Aussian history had been arranged for the morning. Not a bit more, a circus clown who had come to Oz from Philadelphia, was putting on an

outdoor circus in the afternoon, helped by Bob Up, the orphan who had come with him, and all the famous animals in the Emerald City. From the squeals, shouts and hilarious chuckles issuing from the huge white tent set just beyond the city wall, it promised to be an unqualified success. After the circus, Osmer had planned a picnic supper on the banks of the Winky River, to be followed by demonstrations in magic by the Wizard of Oz and Glinda the good sorceress of the South. And last but not least, a lavish display of fireworks sent especially for the grand occasion by Happy Tocco, Emperor of the Silver Isles. No wonder the children in the Emerald City could think of nothing but the coming celebration.

No wonder Dorothy, Trot and Betsy Bobbin, the little mortals who lived in the Great Palace and were princesses in their own right, were too busy to think of their titles or bother with their crowns. Dorothy, the first of the three to reach the capital, was Osma's favourite companion, and Dorothy was perhaps the busiest of all. Not only had she planned all the tableaus and pageants, but had entire charge of decorating the palace and the Emerald City as well. The scarecrow, whom Dorothy had discovered on her earliest trip to Oz, was her most willing and tireless assistant. This lively straw-stuffed gentleman had brains given him by the wizard,

and was in high favour and constant demand because of his natural cheerfulness and amiable disposition. At the moment, he and Dorothy were superintending the erection of a floral arch over the great jewelled gates of the city. This arch, grown and tended by the wizard, was so magically compounded that as each visitor rode through the gateway, a ribbon-tied bouquet of fragrant spring flowers dropped lightly into his or her lap. Dorothy and the scarecrow had tried it out to their complete delight and satisfaction. And now, clasping their large bouquets, watched three energetic little gardeners tie up the last tendrils of the magic vine to the gaily painted arbor. You know, said Dorothy, peering over the flower tops at the scarecrow.

I can hardly wait till tomorrow, to think we'll be seeing Sir Hocus and Ojo and Unk Nunky and Ertha and Prince Tatters and all the others. And they'll be seeing us too, remember that, "'Beamed the scarecrow, closing one cotton eye. "'And now, if you think you can manage for a few minutes without me, "'I had better go and study up on my speech of welcome.' "'Oh, are you making the speech of welcome? "'How grand! How thrilling!'

Dorothy gazed admiringly up at her oldest friend in Oz. "'Yes, and I'm also making the speech awarding medals to the discoverers of our country,' "'confided the scarecrow, thrusting out his chin and striking an attitude. "'How will you feel when I pears? that medal on your chest, my girl. Well, sighed Dorothy, looking dreamily over her bouquet. I couldn't feel any happier than I do now, but it certainly will be a great honour, scarecrow.

A great honour, well, I should, snickety wicker. But what if I forget my speech right in the middle of a word? The scarecrow pushed back his old blue hat and puckered up his forehead anxiously. How will I feel, with all those kings and queens staring right at me. Really, I think Osma had better have someone else make the speeches. Oh, go along with you, laughed Dorothy, giving him a little push. Haven't you magic brains? You'll be a splendid speechmaker. Do you think so? Well, I'll do my best.

Somewhat reassured, the scarecrow patted Dorothy on the shoulder and started off through the park. Dorothy could tell from the way he flung his arms about that he was rehearsing, and with an amused little smile, she hurried back into the palace to put the finishing touches to the decorations for Osmer's throne room. Halfway there, she met the hungry tiger, carrying a large basket in his teeth, and followed by ten little kitchen boys, also bearing enormous baskets. Good gracious, Tig, what's this? Dorothy stared at the little procession in surprise. The hungry tiger and cowardly lion have lived in the Emerald City almost as long as Dorothy, and though the tiger's appetite is tremendous,

and he is always threatening to eat a fat baby, he has never yet yet. He has never yet, Get done it, and is as tame as Dorothy's pet kitten Eureka. Oh, hadn't you heard? The hungry tiger set down his basket and smoothed back his whiskers complacently. I'm the head of the reception committee for all visiting animals, and am on my way now to buy refreshments for the great banquet and picnic. And trust me, he gave Dorothy a broad wink. To do it right, just let me see that list, capo.

Taking a long slip from the first kitchen boy, he began to drone off the name. of the capital's famous four-footed citizens, and then the list of visitors. Of course, there must be meat for the cowardly lion and myself, mused the tiger, blinking his eyes sleepily. Then there's Hank, Betsy Bobbins, mule, and Doughty, that dromedary that you and Sir Hocus brought back from one of those strange journeys. And we mustn't forget Peter's Ifan, though he doesn't eat much. Put down a box of violet and geraniums for the Ifan, Kepo, my lad. Osmer's saw-horse and the woozy, being of wood, don't care for food. but that fine pink pig,

Piggas, it's enough for a dozen horses, and Toto, your little dog, and Belina must be taken care of too, and Scraps bear grumpy. Of course, agreed Dorothy, leaning her elbow on the tiger's back so she could read the list over his shoulder. But they all live here.

Who's coming from foreign parts, Tiger? Well, confided the tiger. You'll be glad to know our old friend, the comfortable camel, is making the trip with Hocus, I mean the yellow knight, and Mary Golden, the princess he married, is riding a war horse named Stampedro. The king and queen of the Gillikins will make the trip on the giant horse. Quite a lot of horses, aren't there? And I hope Highboy keeps his legs in bounds. It makes me nervous to see a creature

one height, one minute, and another height the next. You knew the Prince of Pumpardink was bringing Cabompo the elegant elephant? Don't you mean that Cabompo is bringing him? Put in Dorothy mischievously. And won't you be glad to see him again? "'Yes, I'll be glad enough to see him,' murmured the tiger. "'But feeding him is quite a big problem.' "'Well, you're just the one to do it,' said Dorothy, "'smoothing away the wrinkle between the tiger's pointed ears. "'You have such a big appetite yourself.

"'You'd know just how hungry an elephant would feel. "'I see you've got Roger down too.' "'I'm pretty sure King Ato will bring his reed bird, "'so I'm ordering a dozen boxes of animal crackers for Roger "'and a barrel of apples for snuffer bucks. I wonder if he'll dance for us. Dorothy's eyes brightened, because she had taken a great fancy to the faithful bear with whom Ojo had travelled all over Oz.

He's bound to be jolly and full of fun. And hungry as a bear, sighed the tiger with a worried frown. But that is easy compared to a dragon. King Chirio Bed is bringing a dragon, and this dragon's on a diet of mustard and sulphur. Think of that, my child, and say, I'd best get along or I'll never get my marketing done.

And I must go too, said Dorothy, reminded of her many responsibilities. So giving the tiger's ear an affectionate pull, she ran all the way back to the palace. In the throne room, she found Osma and TikTok in a quiet conference. I've made TikTok master of ceremonies, said Osma looking up with a smile of welcome, because he never forgets what he's wound up to remember. And I'll be sure to keep him wound up. promised Dorothy, patting the machine man on his copper shoulder. Tick-Tock was another of Dorothy's discoveries, and had been manufactured by a magician to be a slave of the King of Ev, but here he was,

thanks to Dorothy, enjoying a life of interest and ease in the capital. Tick-Tock could talk, think and move about, as well as anyone when he was wound, and was much more reliable and tireless than a real person. I am to announce the visitors as they enter the palace and personally conduct them to their royal quarters. Tick-Tock told Dorothy in his slow and precise manner. Osma can depend on me absolutely and everything will go like clockwork. With two stiff bows and ticking with importance, the metal man marched proudly from the room. Like clockwork. Did you hear that? And why not with a clockwork man in charge? Oh, Osma, doesn't it all look grand and gorgeous? clasping the little queen round her slender waist dorothy gazed around the beautiful throne room every window and doorway was garlanded with flowers while hundreds of palms ferns and fluttering silk penance gave it an unwonted look of pomp and ceremony

let me see mused dorothy straightening the folds of a white satin curtain i'm to stand on your right betsy bobbin and trot on your left and the patchwork girl is to hold your train at the grand reception do you think you can trust her, Osma. She'll probably try to jump rope or wave it like a handkerchief. Oh, Scraps is pretty good, considering her giddy makeup, observed Osmer with a little smile. And she would be so disappointed not to be with us. I'm sure I can trust her, at least for a little while. Trust me! Trust me! You disgust me! shouted a merry voice, and Scraps, who had been peeking through the curtains at the back of the room, took a long-running slide, landing in an unlady-like, heap at the foot of the dais leading to the throne. Scraps, made from an old crazy quilt and stuffed with cotton, had been brought to life by a magician to serve his wife. But the patchwork girl

had come to the Emerald City with Ojo and never returned to her creators, scorning the humble career of a maid servant. She was so gay and amusing, Osma had allowed her to remain at the palace. Must I go in training to hold a train? She demanded, springing to her feet, and striking so comical and attitude, both Dorothy and Osma had to laugh. Of course not, said Osma kindly. Just be careful, and do not do any gymnastics during the reception.

Oh, I'll be so dignified and so careful. I'll probably split a seam, but wait till you see the grand aerial balance-defying stunt! I'm to put on for the big shoe, puffed scraps, snapping her button eyes boastfully. I'm to

walk the tightrope in Not a Circus, so so long, girls, I must go and practice. Well, even if she falls, it won't matter, remarked Dorothy with a slight shudder as the patchwork girl jumped recklessly out of the window, and picking herself up, set off for the circus grounds on the edge of the park. Oh, Osma, with all the interesting people here already, and with all the grand and exciting ones who are coming, I believe we'll have the best time we've ever had since Oz was discovered. Are you glad you discovered us? Giving her an affectionate squeeze, Osma linked her arm through Dorothy's. Let's see how the wizard is getting on with his

tricks for the picnic. Dorothy nodded eagerly, and hand in hand, the two girls hurried across the corridor to the laboratory of the wonderful Wizard of Oz. End of Chapter 5. Chapter 6 of The Wishing Horse of Oz by Ruth Plumley Thompson. This Libra Box recording is in the public domain, recording by Beth Thomas. Chapter 6. A Strange Warning The first day of the grand celebration dawned clear and bright. The Emerald City had never seemed more sparkling or fair. Flags fluttered from every tower and turret of the palace. Each house wore a garland of flowers and flaunted a dozen silk banners in the fresh spring breeze. The streets were alive with Osmer's subjects suitably costumed for the big parade. And when shortly afternoon, the royal visitors began to arrive, the castle bells broke into a joyous tolling. the hundreds of bands struck up the Oz national anthem,

and the magnificent and beautiful floats began to swing into line. The scarecrow's address of welcome at the city gates had been greeted with wild enthusiasm and applause, and now, happy but somewhat breathless, the indefatigable straw man mounted on the saw-horse was leading the illustrious guests into the city, where they were to join the royal procession and proceed in triumph to the West Gardens of the Park.

What shouts and cheers were, went up from the happy throngs as that impressive company in their glittering coaches or riding their favourite steeds, moved majestically through the emerald-studded streets of the capital. Directly following the scarecrow, all in red, and wearing her tallest ruby crown, was Glinda, the good sorceress of the south, her swan-drawn chariot seeming to float by itself. Marching cheerfully after the ruler of the quadlings came Nick Chopper, the nickel-plated emperor of the Winkies, polished to the highest degree but democratically afoot, marching in the centre of his ten splendid uniformed winky guards.

A few steps behind the Tin Woodman, and prancing along in hardly restrained exuberance, was the giant horse, proudly bearing Joe King and Queen Hyacinth, king and queen of the Gillikins. And Highboy not only carried his own head high, but he had elevated his sovereigns above everyone else in the procession, so that none could miss the happily smiling rulers of the North.

A dazzling blue dragon had pulled the coach of King Chirio Bed, Queen Oran and Prince Philidor all the way from Sapphire City, and an eye-filling sight was the royal family of the munchkins. Cabompo, the elegant elephant, resplendent in his jewelled robe, swayed haughtily along after Chiribed's blue coach, waving his trunk in a dignified way, to his friends in the crowd. In the canopied seat on his back rode Prince Pompadour and Peg Amy of Pumperdink, easily the handsomest young couple in Oz. Peering mischievously at the side of his gaily painted gin rickisha was the merry red gin himself,

and no one could view the rotund little wizard of Ev without feeling happier. Ginicky's body was a great red jar. He wore the lid for a hat, and when he grew bored or sleepy, he would simply retire into himself like a turtle. But now he did not feel at all like retiring, and was showering ginger cookies right and left,

and simply beaming with interest and jollity. The king and queen of Ragbad rolled briskly along in their shabby but comfortable open coach. With them were Prince Tatters, Ertha, his flowery little princess, and Grandpa, an old soldier with a wooden leg, who had gone through many wars and hardships for the sake of his country. But the shout that greeted the yellow night was loudest and longest of all. The Prince of Corumbia had lived in the Emerald City for many years as Sir Hocus of Pokes, before he was disenchanted,

and became the young and charming husband of Princess Mary Golden of Carabia. Sir Hocus rode the comfortable camel, and Cammy, who had also spent part of his life in the capital, came in for his full share of the cheering. Princess Mary Golden was mounted on Stampedro, the knight's great stamping warhorse, and Stam Pedro was a sight to make any little boy's heart beat faster. Atoe, King of the Octagon Isles, and Samuel Salt, a reformed pirate, now royal discoverer and explorer for the crown,

travelled together in Ato's octagon chariot drawn by eight prancing black horses, with eight-footmen in eight-sided hats on the high seat behind his merry little majesty. Roger, the reedbird, perched proudly on the king's shoulder, reading out the signs and street names as they bowled merrily over the gold paving stones, and chuckling to himself in eight different languages. Last, but by no means least, came the king and queen of Sibania, the king's uncle, better known in the Emerald City, as Unk Nunky, and the king's son, Ojo. The king and queen were seated sedately in the silver coach of Sibania,

but Ojo and his pet bear snufferbucks were proudly mounted on the back of Roganda, queen of the unicorns. This handsome snow-white beast, who had happened to be visiting Ojo at the time, could not only send her horn darting out like a lance, but could blow it as well. The sound of its clear, bell-like notes made many a trumpeter in Osma's band turn around with surprise and envy. Drawn up to meet her impressive visitors was Osma herself.

The royal float of her imperial highness was formed like a seashell. On an uncut emerald in the centre sat the little ruler of all the Ozians, dressed in a shimmering white robe, wearing her flashing emerald crown, and never in all the thousand years of her young life had this lovely young fairy looked more beautiful. Also in white were her attendants Dorothy, Betsy and Trot, each wearing an emerald circlet and carrying a long wand draped with spring flowers. As the scarecrow brought his bright cavalcade to a triumphant halt, Osmer's float, drawn by the hungry tiger and the cowardly lion, swung into place at the head

of the line. The other Emerald City floats, first waiting for the royal equipages, and mounts of the visitors to pass, swept after them in a burst of music and colour. The Wizard of Oz had chosen a huge revolving green ball on which the nimble little necromancer ably kept his balance as he propelled himself along. After him came Jack Pumpkinhead riding the Ifan.

Herbie, the medicine man, clinging precariously to the doubtful dromedary's hump, the pills and boxes in his medicine chest rattling like castanets, was another figure of interest. The float of Not a Bit More represented a circus ring, and the antics of the clown, Pigacus, Bob-Up, Scraps, Hank, and Gumpy, the patchwork girls bear,

kept the onlookers in a gale of hilarity. TikTok had rigged up a mechanical handcar, which he operated himself. Benny, the live statue of a public benefactor who had come to Oz from Boston, strode solidly along, an expression of pride and deep satisfaction on his well-carved feature. Besides Benny marched the soldier with the green whiskers, looking neither to the left or right,

as became a man who represented in his own person the whole and entire army of Oz. I have only mentioned the most outstanding of the Emerald City paraders. Besides these, there were countless marches and hundreds of miniature ships, castles, huge make-believe sea serpents and dragons, and in a blaze of colour and harmony they wound through the streets of the capital, ending up at the West Gardens of the Palace, where the boys and girls from Professor Wogglebug's Athletic College distinguished themselves in a series of gymnastic displays,

and the scarecrow established an all-time record for pole vaulting. By the time Osmer had awarded the cups and trophies, the sun had begun to slip down behind the treetops, and in high spirits and with splendid appetites, the royal party and the royal guests turned towards the castle. Here, Tick-Tock, who had hurried on ahead, nobly discharged his duties as master of ceremonies. The cowardly lion did the honours for the four-footed visitors, leading each to an airy shower-equipped stall in the royal stable, so they could rest and refresh themselves before the grand banquet.

And how shall I do justice to that dazzling affair? For the first time in its history, the magnificent dining-hall was filled to capacity. Easily as large as a city park, there was just room for the two, long, sparkling, flower-laden banquet tables, the first for Osma's courtiers and guests, the second for the palace pets and visiting animals. The scarecrow caused a roar of hilarity as the diners took their places by donning a pair of dark spectacles to prevent eye strain from the flashing of so many jewels and crowns. With each course of the long delicious dinner, Osmer had a different king, queen or celebrity at her side. And so cleverly had it all been arranged, each guest had the

honour of sitting for a time beside the kingdom's little fairy ruler. Soft music floated down from the balcony where the royal orchestra was concealed behind a bower of palms. The bright robes and jewels of the banqueters and the emerald and silver dinner service twinkled and sparkled in the magic glow of a thousand candles. The hundred footmen was swift and skillful. The speeches were short and merry, and never thought Dorothy, looking around with a little thrill of satisfaction. Never has there been so grand and yet delightful a party. The hungry tiger had remembered the tastes and appetites of each of his guests, and not only were they served with the same dainties enjoyed by the two-footed visitors, but everyone had a special dish of his own. Even the dragon seemed to enjoy immensely

his matches and mustard, then called in a hoarse voice for three pails of hot coals, after which he blew a whole series of smoke rings and went comfortably to sleep. Dorothy and the Wizard had with due modesty accepted their medals for their discovery of Oz, and the whole company on its feet for this impressive ceremony was suddenly startled by a shrill scream from the patchwork girl. His beard! His beard! Look at his beard! Yodled scraps. Yes, I think Yodel best describes the excited noise made by this irrepressible maiden.

His beard, I said, it's turning red! At the word beard, every eye turned to the soldier with green whiskers, for his beard was the longest and most celebrated in Oz. Why, so it is, exclaimed Dorothy in astonishment. Red, choked the soldier, desperately clutching his famous whiskers. Oh, oh, my beautiful green beard, it's red as fire. Oh, oh, how can I ever be the soldier with green whiskers if my beard stays red? Who did this?

Wizard, wizard, are you playing a trick? on me. Certainly not, soldier. I'd be the last person to tamper with your sacred beard. Quiet, please, quiet. This is extremely odd and disturbing. Jumping on his chair, the little wizard of Oz looked anxiously round the room. Do they hurt? A red whiskers painful? Asked Scraps, while the royal guests, hardly knowing whether to laugh or sympathise, gazed curiously at the blazing beard of the army of Oz. They, they hurt my fear. feelings, blubbered the poor soldier, holding out his bristling whiskers in disgust. I'll never get used to a red beard, never, never.

Why not cut it off? inquired Prince Pompadour, with some difficulty controlling his chuckles. What? Cut off my beautiful whiskers? Why, I'd rather lose my head. Moaned the soldier with a horrified shudder. How would I look? How would I fight? Oh, this is ridiculous. Baring his face in his napkin, Osmer's distracted army rushed violently from the room. Ridiculous, if you ask me,

observed the scarecrow in his droll voice. No, no, it's magic, muttered the wizard, stepping briskly down from his chair. Wait, I must consult my book of red magic and portents. And I'll go with you, offered Ginnyky, rolling quickly out of his cushioned seat. you know red magic is my specialty so arm in arm the wizard of oz and the wizard of ev bustled away together well i can tell you what it means without consulting any books said the scarecrow as osma looking rather troubled again took her place and motion for others to do the same it is a warning declared the scarecrow raising his arm stiffly someone is coming to beard us in our den pardon such an informal reference to your castle my dear he made an apologetic little bow to Osma, and then continued seriously. A danger from without threatens the kingdom of

Oz. Who would dare threaten the sovereignty of our country? demanded the yellow knight, brandishing his sword. What's up? What's up? Nade highboy, elevating himself so suddenly, he cracked his head against the ceiling. You should know being so high, chuckled the scarecrow, who could not resist a joke even when he was most serious. But calm yourself, my good horse. You are not in danger yet. Danger? The short, ugly word dropped like a bomb into that gay and carefree assemblage. Dorothy, with a little pang of dismay, saw the cowardly lion creeping under the table. And feeling in her pocket for her handkerchief, drew out instead one of the wizard's wishing pills. He had given it to her so she could visit the corn-eer palace of the scarecrow the

following week, and do it by simply wishing herself there instead of making the journey. Dorothy fingered the pill thoughtfully for a minute or two, then, with a sudden quick motion, popped the small tablet into her mouth. Whatever happens, help me to save Osma and Oz, murmured Dorothy. And swallowing the pill, she looked sharply around the room for further signs of warning or disaster. End of Chapter 6. Chapter 7 of The Wishing Horse of Oz by Ruth Plumley Thompson. This Libravox recording is in the public domain.

Recording by Beth Thomas Chapter 7 What Wizard At first, everything seemed as usual. Then, turning to ask the Tin Woodman a question, Dorothy was annoyed to discover that his chair was pushed back, and he was nowhere in sight. Oh, he's probably helping the wizard,

decided Dorothy, and had no sooner come to this comforting conclusion before she gave a second start of alarm. Glinda, the good sorceress, was no longer in her seat. at the foot of the table, and, running her eye hurriedly down the glittering board, Dorothy saw five more empty places. Pressing a finger to her forehead, Dorothy tried to remember who had been sitting in the five deserted chairs. Surely Joe King and Queen Hyacinth had been there, between

Betsy Bobbin and Trot, while Prince Philidor, Queen Oren and King Chirio Bed, had been directly opposite. Good Gillikins! gasped the little girl, jumping quickly to her feet. The rulers of All four Oz countries are gone, and Highboy's gone too. And strangely enough, nobody seemed to have missed them. Instead, they were listening with broad smiles and appreciatively tapping toes to the loud and hilarious singing of the patchwork girl. Scraps, thinking it a shame to let a mere change of whiskers spoil a good party, was enlivening the company with her newest and most comical rhymes.

So loud was her voice, and the applause of the banqueters, Dorothy found it impossible to make herself heard. So, running around to the back of the scarecrow's chair, she tugged him anxiously by the arm. Scarecrow! Scarecrow! whispered Dorothy hoarsely. Where are the four rulers of Oz, and whatever can be keeping the wizard so long? Tearing his gaze reluctantly from the patchwork girl,

the scarecrow looked dreamily over his shoulder. What wizard? He inquired blankly. The wizard! Our wizard! The wonderful wizard of Oz! Oz. Dorothy stamped her foot and almost shouted with surprise and vexation. Never heard of him, declared the scarecrow, smiling blandly down at her. Now, why not sit quietly down and listen to scraps? She's never been funnier. Ha ha ha! Never funnier. Dorothy was so stunned

and dumbfounded by the scarecrow's statement about the wizard, she opened and closed her mouth several times without saying anything. Mercy, I'd better tell Osmer about this, she thought distractedly, and swinging round abruptly she scurried a long back of the diners till she came to the head of the table. Oh, Osma! panted the little girl breathlessly, then stopped short. There was no one in Osma's great, dragon-armed chair of state. The Yellow Knight and Prince Pompadour, who for the last course were in the seats of honour beside the little queen, leaned unconcernedly across her empty place, engaged in a long, earnest argument about horses. They looked up in surprise as Dorothy, her crowned by the

this time very much on the side, bounced suddenly between them. Where's Osmer? demanded the little girl, thumping her fist sharply on the table. Osmer? The yellow knight and Prince Pompa exchanged an uneasy glance. Who is Osmer? asked Prince Pompadour curiously. Oh, I think you all are perfectly horrid. Stop joking. Stop teasing me! cried Dorothy. And as both princes in frank amazement jumped up to try to comfort her, she rushed angrily from the room. As she fled along the green corridor,

she could still hear scraps singing and the shouts and cheers of her listeners. This is terrible, terrible! wailed Dorothy, and running blindly down the long hall, she burst through the swinging doors of the wizard's laboratory. What she had expected to find, Dorothy hardly knew. Really, she was hoping to see Osma and the four other rulers grouped around the wizard's green table.

But only a blank, suffocating. silence answered her frantic call for the wizard. Frightened into silence herself, Dorothy tiptoed from one end to the other of the long, curiously appointed apartment, peering into cupboards under sofas and back of screens. Where was the red gin? Where was the little wizard of Oz? Not here, certainly. Not in the banquet hall.

But the throne room! There she would find all of her missing friends conferring with Osma over the threatened danger to the realm. With a little gasp of relief, she'd darted across the corridor into the vast and magnificent hall of justice, where Osmer received visitors, settled disputes, and carried on all the important business of governing. They were not in the sumptuous presence chamber,

but at least the throne was not empty. No, no indeed. Dorothy looked once, rubbed her eyes, looked again, and then, giving a shrill scream of terror, flung both arms around one of the emerald-studded pillars. An immense white horse was seen. sitting on the throne of Oz. A great fat king was sitting on the horse, or rather clinging desperately to his neck. Dorothy knew he was a king by the crown perched ridiculously on the side of his head.

That crown seemed oddly familiar, and after another horrified glance, Dorothy screamed again, for it was the splendid emerald circlet belonging to Osma of Oz. Her screams seemed to roused the two occupants of the throne, who, to be perfectly frank, looked as dazed and stupefied as Dorothy herself. Go away, sputtered the fat king, waving his arms irritably. Go away, little girl, and don't bother me. And kindly bow as you leave, directed the white horse, lifting one foot sternly. You are looking at the Emperor of Oz and his imperial charger.

Bowing more from astonishment than intention, Dorothy backed a few steps. steps, then turned around and ran madly towards the royal banquet hall. End of Chapter 7. Chapter 8 of the Wishing Horse of Oz by Ruth Plumley Thompson. This Libra Box recording is in the public domain. Recording by Beth Thomas. Chapter 8. Way for the Emperor. Here, give her water, give her air.

Stand back, everybody. Now then, what's the matter, child? The scarecrow bent solicitously over the little girl who had rushed into the banquet hall, screaming hysterically about disappearances and white horses and fallen breathlessly into the chair beside him. Come, tell Uncle all about it, begged the scarecrow, patting Dorothy clumsily on the head.

Tell you! Choked poor Dorothy, twisting her best handkerchief into a hard knot. Do I have to tell you? Can't you see for yourselves that Osma is missing? That the wizard and jiniqui are gone! That Glinda and the Tin Woodman and the king and queen of the Gilligan. and the king and queen of the munchkins have vanished entirely, and yet here you sit,

singing and laughing, as if nothing at all had happened. Can't you understand that something dreadful has happened to Osma and that a big, fat, funny-looking man and a white horse are sitting on the throne of Oz? Osma. Osmer? Who's she? murmured the banqueters, looking vaguely at Dorothy and then at each other. She's feverish, that's what? Herbie the medicine man leaned over to touch Dorothy expertly on the forehead. I'd advise you to go upstairs and lie down, my dear. Yes, why don't you? Urged Betsy Bobbin, coming over to put her arm around Dorothy's waist.

I'll go up with you and lend you my very best smelling salts. Lie down, with that big fat interloper on the throne of Oz! Whaled Dorothy. Squirming out of Betsy's embrace, she started indignantly to her feet. You must be crazy. Cammy, Cabompo, snufferbucks, Toto, you'll believe me, won't you? Horrying over to the second table,

Dorothy looked pleadingly down the long board, from the hungry tiger at the head to the cowardly lion at the foot. There, there, mumbled Kabumpo, lifting Dorothy up in his trunk. Don't go on, so, my dear. We all have these little funny spells. Here, sit up on my back,

so you have a good view of the emperor when he arrives. Hi, there he comes now. Ray, Ray, way for Scamperew, Emperor of Oz. Waving Dorothy in his trunk as if she had been a flag, Cabompo plopped down on his knees and banged his big head three times on the polished floor. From her precarious position, Dorothy saw the same fat imposter who had been in the throne room, riding his white charger pompously into the banquet hall, the horse nodding to the left and right and grinning like a Cheshire cat.

Cheers, bows and a loud burst of applause and music made his entry so not. noisy, Dorothy's angry protests and cries were entirely drowned out. Disgusted, confused, and completely bewildered by the behaviour of Osma's subjects and her own best friends, Dorothy jerked away from Cabompo and darted through a long French window into the garden. What could it mean? What could have happened? Had all her former memories of Os been a dream? No, no. Violently, Dorothy decided against such an idea. Rather, was this fat emperor a dream, a maddening nightmare from which she would presently awaken. Leaning dizzily against a golden fawn set near a crystal garden pool,

Dorothy tried to find some reasonable explanation of the whole dreadful mix-up. And here, several minutes later, Pigas, the winged pig, found her. Thought a little fly over the treetops might help your head, grunted Pegasus, looking unhappily down his pink snout. Nothing like a little fly for a headache, my girl. My head's all right. answered Dorothy sullenly.

It's the rest of you who have lost your heads or your senses. How in Oz could you stand there cheering that big fat fraud? I'll never, never understand. Piggins, pigans, dear! Dorothy bent coaxingly over him. Surely you remember Osma and the wizard and Glinda? Instead of answering at once, Pigasus stared thoughtfully at his reflection in the pool.

Suppose you sit on my back, and then we can talk without being heard, he suggested brightly. Up in the air, we can air our views in safety, as it were. To tell the truth, I don't much care where I go now, sighed Dorothy, seating herself disconsolately on the pig's broad back. Hey, hey, we're bewitched and enchanted, I knew it. With you on my back, I can think and see through it, squealed Pegasus, and flapping his huge wings,

he sought high over the flowering plum trees in Osmer's garden. Of course, Osmer's queen, not this big scamperoo, the ruler of Oz and the whole royal crew have been kidnapped, bewitched or put out of the way. We'll fly off for help and we'll start right away. Oh, Piggins! Dorothy threw both arms round the pig's neck and almost wept for joy. Oh, Pegasus, to think you remember them too!

But where have they gone? What in Oz shall we do? We'll find them. Wherever they are, they'll be found, but we'd best make our plans with our feet on the ground. muttered Pegasus, looking below for a likely spot to land. There was one disadvantage about Pegasus, though some did not regard it as such. Like the winged horse Pegasus, whoever caught him and rode on his back, at once became a poet, and unable to speak anything but rhymes. The poetic pig could not only tell what they were thinking,

but he often spoke his own mind in verse as well. At times this grew terribly tiresome, but except for his jingles, a more cheerful, loyal little fellow could not be found in the length or breadth of the country. Raised and bred by the red gin, he had been given to the Duke of Dork. The Duke had given him to the Philadelphia boy Peter, who, in the course of a voyage with Samuel Salt the pirate,

had captured the Duke's splendid castle boat. The capture had been quite a social and friendly affair, and the Duke had traded Pegasus for a banana goat. Peter had later brought the flying pig to the Emerald City, where he was petted and admired by the whole court. Now, slanting down into a quiet grove, Pegasus came to a gentle stop, and Dorothy tumbled jubilantly off his back. Oh, Pegasus, isn't it lucky you were in the Emerald City?

Nobody else can remember Osma or the others at all. And I only remembered them because you sat on my back, confessed the pig, twitching his nose thoughtfully. It was my thought-reading gift, ha-ha, that did the trick. And I am more than ever convinced that we are under some mischievous spell or enchantment, What I don't understand, my dear, is how you yourself escaped or chanced to remember things as they were. You know, before I came out here, it seemed perfectly right and natural

for that roly-poly pudding of an emperor to be sitting at the head of the table. I knew no more about Osmar or Glinda, or my former master, Geniechi, than a newborn baby. By the way, Ginicky's gone too, isn't he? Yes, Dorothy shook her head sorrowfully. And without him or the wizard to help, we'll have a new-born. hard time, I guess. What shall we do first, Piggins? How about having a try at some of the wizard's magic?

Proposed the pink pig daringly. Then we might look in Osma's magic picture and ask it to show us where all of our missing friends are now. Now why didn't I think of that for myself? cried Dorothy, and springing up she started off on a run. Wait, wait! grunted Piggasus, pattering breathlessly after her. Remember, we must be very careful, my dear. No questions about Osma. No remarks that will arouse the anger of this Scaliwag Emperor, or will both be clapped in a dungeon.

We must pretend that we have forgotten too, and get away quietly later tonight. This seemed so sensible a plan, Dorothy readily agreed to it, and without attracting any attention at all, they re-entered the palace and hurried immediately to Osma's small sitting-room. But if they expected the magic picture to solve their problem, they were soon doomed to disappointment. The picture was gone from its accustomed place,

and the safe where Osma kept her magic treasures and other valuables was wide open and quite empty. A quick search of the wizard's laboratory proved equally discouraging. The wizard's famous black bag was nowhere in sight. The little hanging closet where he stored his transformation powders and wishing pills was as bare as the cupboard of old mother hubbard. Oh, whoever planned this thought of everything. wheezed Pegasus, sitting heavily back on his haunches.

There is nothing here for us, Dorothy. If I were you, I'd get a few things together, and we'll leave right away before anyone misses you. From the tears, shouts and hilarious singing coming from the banquet hall, it seemed probable that the celebration would go on for hours. No one in that gay and foolish company even thought of or missed the little girl and the pink pig,

stealing so quietly through the dim halls of the palace. "'Ozma's Palace,' reflected Dorothy, looking resentfully over her shoulder, "'but now it seemed strange, alien, and completely unfriendly. "'With a little shiver, Dorothy drew her cloak more closely about her, "'and stepped resolutely out into the night. "'Pigasus patted on ahead, snorting a bit from sheer nervousness. "'Maybe we'd better fly,' he grunted uneasily, as Dorothy caught up with him. "'It's safer, and it's faster, and the faster we'd get away from here,

"'the better I'm thinking.' "'I've been thinking, too,' answered Dorothy in a low voice. "'Perhaps only the people in the Emerald City are under this forgetting spell, Pegasus. "'Perhaps if we fly to the Winky country, the Winkies will remember their emperor, the Tin Woodman, "'and will help us raise an army so we can come back, "'conquer this old scamperew, and make him tell where he has hidden all the proper rulers of Oz and other celebrities.' "'That's the talk, that's the talk,' approved the pig, twinkling his little blue eyes joyfully. "'Up with you, up with you.

you, my girl, but remember, if you grow sleepy, let me know at once so I can descend. If you fall asleep, you might fall off my back, and think how I'd feel then. Think how I'd feel, laughed Dorothy, her spirits lifting a bit at the Pink Pig's comical conversation and enthusiastic seconding of her plans. Seating herself carefully on his plump back, she quickly gave the signal to start. Then up soared Pegasus over the palace garden, over the city walls and away toward the east and the yellow lands of the winkies. Oh, I believe everything is going to be all right, thought Dorothy, settling herself cosily between his wings. So do I.

Sniffed the pink pig, peering mischievously over his shoulder. I forgot you could read all the thoughts. Goodness gracious, of those on your back. Do you mind it, Piggas? Not when they're nice thoughts like yours, puffed the little pig in answer to Dorothy's surprised rhyme. And winking his eye jovially, he zoomed like a small pink zeppelin through the sky. End of Chapter 8. Chapter 9 of The Wishing Horse of Oz by Ruth Plumley Thompson. This Librevox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Beth Thomas. Chapter 9. The journey begins. For several hours, Pegasus flew without slackening his pace. Then, as several suspicious little yawns and sighs floated past his keen upstanding ears, he solemnly slanted downward.

If he had chosen it on purpose, he could not have found a more comfortable place for Dorothy to spend the night. They had already crossed the border, and penetrated far into the land of the Winkies, and were now landing in the quiet garden of a prosperous Winky farmer. Set in the center of a dancing bed of yellow daffodils and tulips stood a small summer house, and with Dorothy rubbing her eyes sleepily, Pegasus trotted briskly into the rustic cottage. The door was invitingly open, and the moon lit up its cosy, one-roomed interior. Snorting with satisfaction, Pegasas patted over to a broad couch, piled high with yellow cushions, and rolling drowsily from his back, Dorothy burrowed contentedly into the centre of them, falling asleep before the pig reached his own bed, a soft

woolly rug on the half. Piggasus slept lightly but well, and waking around round six, began to gaze rather anxiously at the round yellow farm buildings just visible from the door. The pink pig had had several unfortunate experiences with farmers. They had a way of looking at his plump body that seemed to reduce him at once to slices of bacon and sides of ham. One enterprising fellow had actually caught him and shut him up in an untidy pen. From this foolish prison, Pigacus had escaped by spreading his wings and flying away, but the mere mention of farmers gave him the shivers. So now, moving impatiently about the little room, he waited for Dorothy to awaken, and as she continued to slumber on, he flew up over the mantle, and swept a large

yellow jug to the floor with his wing. The crash of the falling jar aroused Dorothy at once, and without stopping to explain, Piggis suggested that they start off, and Dorothy, not even noticing the broken jug, readily consented. We'll probably find a much better place to have breakfast as we fly along, murmured Pegasus, as Dorothy seated herself between his wings, holding her small basket of supplies in her lap. Would it do any harm to stop at the farm, and inquire about Osmer, and spread the alarm? asked Dorothy, who had rather counted on a cheerful breakfast at the farmhouse. No, it wouldn't do any harm, answered Pegasus, rising in a straight line from the tulip bed and winging rapidly over the yellow fields and fences. But neither would it do any good.

never know what's happening or going to happen. I tell you, though, we'll ask the first person we meet. Who would we meet in the air but a bird? Now really, Pegasus, that's simply absurd. Some of the smartest people I know are birds, insisted the pigs stoutly. Take Roger, for instance, he knows more than most of us have forgotten. But look, a brook, a quiet wood. Stop, listen, look, for I crave food. Making a swift downward. curve, Pegasusus landed cleverly by a rippling stream, edged by some tall butternut trees. There were yellow raspberries along the bank, and the berries, with some of the sandwiches Dorothy had brought with her, washed down by cool water from the brook, made a splendid

breakfast. I wonder whether they'll have the tableaux and pageant without me, sighed Dorothy, biting slowly into a sardine sandwich. And how thou manage the circus without you, Piggins, or the picnic supper without Osmer, or the magic and fireworks without the wizard. They're probably forgotten all about today's doings, mumbled Pegasus, nosing busily among the leaves for right butternuts. Thou probably spend the time bumping their noses on the floor

when that fat emperor comes waddling through the palace and bending the right knee every time his white horse sneezes or coughs. Choking with indignation, Pegasus began gobbling up so many butternuts, Dorothy feared he would never be able to fly. or walk again. Let's stay on the ground for a while, she proposed, eyeing him rather nervously as she packed the remaining sandwiches neatly back in the basket.

I believe there's a path beyond those trees. Maybe it leads to a town or a village, where we may meet someone who can tell us what we want to know. You don't expect to find out where Osmer and the others are hidden straight off, do you? Rubbing his back lazily against one of the butternut trees, Pegasus looked quizzically at his earnest little companion. No, I don't really expect that, said Dorothy, slipping the basket over her arm. But it would be pretty nice if we met somebody who even remembered them after all we've been through.

I can hardly remember them myself unless you are sitting on my back, admitted the pink pig, trotting soberly along at her side. This emperor's magic must be strong medicine. Hello, here comes a fisherman. Pegasus pricked up both ears and his wings. shall I question him or will you? Without bothering to answer, Dorothy ran eagerly towards the tall Winky who was coming leisurely along the path. He carried a basket and had a fishing rod over his shoulder, and though his clothes were rough,

Dorothy could tell by his manner and bearing that he was a person of some importance. Oh, please, Mr. Winky, cried the little girl as he nodded politely and would have passed them without stopping. Could you tell us who is king here? King? answered the fisherman, taking the pipe out of his mouth and looking kindly down at his small questioner. Why, no one in particular, my dear, but of course we winkies and the inhabitants of the other three countries of Oz are governed from the capital by Emperor Scampereau, great fellow our imp, and have you seen his white horse? Yes, I've seen it, said Dorothy, shutting her mouth rather

grimly. But I thought Osma was queen, weised Pegasus, out of breath from running after Dorothy, and too many butternuts. Osma? What a curious name, mused the fisherman, looking pensively at the winged pig. What gave you the idea that Osma was our ruler? Perhaps you are strangers here. Well, it would seem so, puffed Pegasus, sitting down and panting a little from sheer discouragement. Oh, you'll get used to us, laughed the fisherman with a breezy wave. Fine country this. Sorry I can't show you round, but as I promised my wife some fish for dinner, I'll have to be moving along.

Good day to you. Good day, little girl. Good day, echoed Dorothy, in a rather flat voice, as the fisherman lifting his hat strode briskly into the wood. You see, she groaned. Even here, everyone is bewitched. Oh, Piggins, what'll we do? No one in Oz will help or believe us.

Goose tea and turnips. What if they don't? Piggyz has shook his head impatient. There are other countries, aren't there? Take Ev, for instance, or Rinky-Tink, or the Rose Kingdom. Why, there are lots of places whose rulers will remember Osma, my poor old friend Jinnaki and the others? Come along, my girl, we've only just started. While people roar for the emperor will seek our rightful ruler, from coast to coast, from door to door, though foes grow cruel and crueler. What we need is some magic. finished Pegasus shrewdly. Know a good place to look for some? The gnome king has plenty of magic, reflected Dorothy, leaning thoughtfully against a tree.

And Osmer and I really helped put him on the throne, so surely he'll help us. Well, maybe. But I don't set great store by gnomes. They're tricky. Nevertheless, we'll go to Ev and everywhere else, till we restore this country to its proper rulers. Pegasusus looked so impressive with his chest and cheeks puffed out with purpose.

Dorothy gave him a quick hug. Down with the Emperor, snorted Pegasus, though almost suffocated by Dorothy's embrace. And up with you, my patriotic young princess. Now you make me feel like a real one. I'd almost forgotten I was a princess, smiled Dorothy, climbing obediently on his back. I believe everything will be better from now on. Well, it could be a lot worse, chuckled Pegasus, and flapping his wings in a business-like manner, he rose gracefully into the air and headed for the east. Rolling hills, dotted with castles,

villages and towns, valleys, farmlands and forests, flashed in an ever-changing, pleasant panorama below. At noon, they came down beside the Winky River, finished up the rest of the sandwiches for lunch, and then looked eagerly around for someone else to question. But the yellow beard ferrymen, who presently came into sight, polling his old-fashioned raft across the turbulent river, knew no more of Osmer and the other rulers of Oz than the fishermen. But he told the many long and boring stories of Scamparoo and his white horse chalk. Dorothy and Pegasus had to make such an effort to listen politely, they were relieved when he finally shoved off and began polling himself back to the other side. Oh, have you any idea how far we've come? asked Pegasus,

rolling over and over in the cool grass, as Dorothy made a face at the ferryman's back. Yes, said Dorothy, dropping full length beside him. This river is in about the centre of the Winky Kingdom, so we are easily halfway. We could reach the deadly desert by night, fly over tomorrow morning, and either go north to Ev or stop at the underground castle of the Gnome King. Even if Calico won't lend us his army, he might lend us some magic. Speaking of armies, they must have whisked the soldier with the green whiskers off with the others. I don't remember seeing him after he left the banquet hall, do you?

Which just goes to show that this scamperoo must be a stranger in Oz, for who else would have been afraid of our precious old army? Why, he wouldn't even tread on a caterpillar. By the way, has Calico any magic that might tell us where to look for our vanished friends and ruler? I'm not sure of that. Dorothy told him dubiously. But he has a wizard, and Ruggedo, who was king before Calico, had many magic treasures and powers.

He could make floors and walls spin round and round, open yawning caverns at your feet, or drop rocks down on your head without even moving. Sounds lovely, sniffed Pegasus, coming to his feet with a short grunt. Oh, so, haven't we trouble enough at home without going to look for it? Do you really propose to visit this tricky little metal monarch? But Calico is not nearly so bad as Ruggedo.

Dorothy sat up and smoothed her dress earnestly. Well, just as you wish. Pegas has shrugged his wings. With me, people are like eggs, either good or bad. There's no such thing as a nearly good egg. It's got to be completely good, or it's just as bad as a bad egg. Do you see? And if this Gome King is only as good as a nearly fresh egg,

I wouldn't trust him with my second best toothbrush. My idea would be to go to the ruler of Ev. That's Evado, a boy king. Osma helped him too, Dorothy explained importantly. But I tell you, Piggins, let's not decide till we cross the deadly desert. Something might turn up before then. You never can tell. Oh, no, agreed the pig, shaking his head sagely. In Oz, you never can.

Suppose we continue a ways on foot. My wings are a bit stiff, and we really should be on the lookout for a friendly. house or castle where we could have supper and spend the night. I could eat a peck of spinach or a bushel of apples right now, so hop up, my dear, and I'll stretch a leg for the good of the cuss and Oz. Chattering away like the good fellow he was, Pegasus trotted briskly across the fields, and presently came to a deep rustling forest. Hmm, shall we fly over or walk through? questioned the pig, sniffing appreciatively at the cool air drifting out to them. Let's go through it. in a wood, there might be witches. Some are good. A good witch with her magic powers could solve this

mystery of ours. But suppose we meet a bad one, muttered Pegasus, stepping gingerly into the forest and picking his way with great care between the giant trees. Then we'll say goodbye and simply fly, laughed Dorothy, snapping her fingers joyfully. Yes, but flying would not be so easy in here, objected Pegasus with a troubled glance aloft. These branches are interlocked so closely I'd stick in a tree like a kite. Oh, we probably won't meet anyone, said Dorothy. Slipping off his back, she walked along beside him, one arm flung cozily around his neck. She was rather tired of making verses, and thought she could think better if her head were not

continually buzzing with rhymes. After the hot sunny meadows, the cool shade of the forest was very welcome. but as they advanced further and further into the shadows, it grew so dark and grim, the two began to look at each other in real alarm. Must be a squall or thunder shower brewing, observed Pegasus in a faint voice. Yes, but it couldn't be night-time so soon,

agreed Dorothy, looking fearfully over her shoulder. The crackling of twigs, as some large animal made its way through the brush, sounded like gunfire. And while they were trying to make up their minds whether to run back or push forward, a long, hollow roar sent them skittering forward practically as one. Missing trees by mere inches, they pelted at breakneck speed into the dense and even gloomier stretch of woodland ahead. Better climb on my back, directed Pegasus, halting at last from lack of breath rather than inclination.

But where are you? I can't even see you, wailed Dorothy feeling about wildly. here, here, grunted the frantic pig, making short dashes in four or five directions, and finally bumping violently into the groping little girl. Snatching at a wing, Dorothy pulled herself thankfully up and clasped both arms around his neck. In a tense and breathless silence, they waited for it to grow lighter. They could not see even an inch before their noses now, and the darkness and silence grew more oppressive and unbearable every minute. Just a cloud passing over, croaked Pegasus, trying to keep his teeth from chattering. Say, what's that? Dorothy, do you hear anything? For footsteps, not for two.

Someone's coming. Hello there, who are you? Watch out now, we're here. I see you, answered a flat, matter-of-fact voice. Oh, he sees us yet we can't see him. I'm frightened, deaf and dumb. Oh, try to fly. Pigguses, why?

Oh, why did we ever come? That's what I'd like to know, went on the voice sternly. Now then, will you come quietly, or must I drag you along? End of Chapter 9. Chapter 10 of the Wishing Horse of Oz by Ruth Plumley Thompson.

This Libra Box recording is in the public domain, recording by Beth Thomas. Chapter 10. The Witch of the Black Forest Dorothy and her companion were too stunned to answer, and in two thumping steps the owner of the voice was upon them. Do you dare to defy a member of the invincible black watch? Breathe the stranger, grasping piggasus roughly by the right wing. No, no, we don't exactly defy you?

Squealed the pig, flapping his other wing frantically. But how can we follow a black wing? guard whom we cannot even see? Then how do you know I'm a blackguard? Demanded their captor suspiciously. From your voice! Screamed Pigasus jerking this way and that way in an effort to free himself. I'd know you for a blackguard anywhere.

Unhand me, you surly black a monster. You talk a lot for a fellow who cannot see, scoffed the guard, tightening his grip on the pig's wing. Is the girl blind too? We're not blind at all, and why should we be? In this horrid black forest, how could we see? cried Dorothy, her indignation getting the better of her fright. Well, what colour are your eyes? Dorothy felt the hot breath of the guardsman on her neck as he leaned over to find out for himself. Blue, he murmured, inevident puzzlement.

And the pig's eyes are blue too, so that's the reason. What has colour to do with it? grunted Pegasus, growing a little calmer as the conversation progressed without either of them coming to actual harm. Everything, explained the guard impressively. In the black forest, one must have black eyes to see. See? Even a pig should know that. Well, I suppose I could run into a tree and black my eyes, sniffed Pegasus bitterly.

But thank you no. I prefer blue eyes. And now, if you will kindly conduct us to the edge of this deep, dark, dangerous and disgusting domain, we'll be pleased to go, leave, depart, and bid you farewell forever. Oh, keep all that for Gouloma, drawled the guard indifferently. I'm a plain man and prefer plain language. Furthermore, no one leaves this forest unless they break the black laws.

If you break the law, you are cast out into the utter and awful light of eternal day. Now then, come along. And giving the pig's wing a cruel tweak, he tramped doggedly forward. Pigacus, to save his precious feathers, was obliged to come. suiting his gait to the guard's strides. "'The best thing for us to do is to break the law at once,' he whispered mournfully to Dorothy as he blinked about in a desperate effort to penetrate the gloom. Dorothy was too depressed to answer, and after clearing his throat several times,

the Blackguard began to question Pegasus. "'Why the wings?' he asked inquiringly. "'I've seen many a farm-yard creature in my day, but never a pig with wings. Are you a pig or a kind of baloney bird? What right has a pig to wings? Let go and I'll show you, puffed Pegasus, hoping the fellow's curiosity would cause him to loosen his hold. But the guard only laughed at such an idea.

Let you go, I should say not, he exclaimed with a little chuckle. You can show all your little tricks to Goloma, and she can decide whether to ride or roast you. This girl on your back will make a splendid slave. "'Slave!' shrilled Pigacess is stumbling angrily along in the dark. "'I'll have you know. She is a princess of Oz, and lives in the palace of Osma of Oz. "'Then why did she not stay there?' observed the guard reasonably enough. "'Anyone coming into this forest comes under the rule of Glomer, which of the black forest?'

"'Which?' coughed the pig, as Dorothy, tightening her clutch on his neck, almost choked him. "'Yes, which.' repeated the forester calmly. Now then, hold up your heads, you pale and pinky skins. You are in for a good blacking. And before Pegasus knew just what was happening, the ground slipped away from under him, and he and Dorothy were plunged into the rough, chilly waters of a tumbling forest stream. Striking out with all four feet, Pegasus managed to breast the flood, when he felt himself and Dorothy being forced completely under. As a matter of fact, the guard swimming beside him had simply put his hand on Dorothy's head and pushed her and the squealing pig beneath the surface.

As they rose, gasping and sputtering, he again seized Pegasus by the wing and pulled him quickly to shore. There, now you're all right, he boomed heartily as Dorothy rolled off the pig's back and began shaking the water from her eyes and hair and wringing out her dripping skirts. Just blot yourselves. Blot yourselves? Gurgled Pigasus, giving himself a violent shaking. Do you take us for letters? You, you'll be sorry for this. But right in the middle of his angry sputters, he gave a loud and astonished squall. Dorothy, Dorothy, I can see, panted the pink pig exultantly. So can I, cried Dorothy running excitedly towards him.

But everything looks black. Everything is black. Even you. Oh, you're perfectly cold black, Piggins, am I black too? Of course, answered the guard in a bored voice, and much better so. Since you are black yourselves, you can see in the dark like the rest of us, and what do you think of our forest now? But Dorothy, instead of telling him, held up her shiny black hands, touched a few strands of her perfectly black hair, and then dropped her head on the pig's shoulder and began to weep bitterly. Like drops of ink, the tears coursed down her ebony cheeks, and though Pegasus did what he could to comfort her, she continued to sob as if her heart would break. Well, I must say, I call this ungrateful.

The guard shifted from one foot to the other. What's the matter with you anyway? Black is a splendid colour. Doesn't show dirt, doesn't fade or streak. Besides, it's against the law to be any other colour in this forest. How dare you blacken us against our will? Burst out Pegasus furiously. Wait to like it.

get loose. I'll, why, I'll tear you to pieces and pitch you into a tar barrel. Oh, don't make me snort. The huge black forester stared contemptuously down at the winged pig, and now that Pegasus had a better look at him, he saw the folly of his threats, for the black guard was well over six feet and lean and tough as black leather. Evidently feeling he had wasted enough time on the pair, he gave them a very black look, and jerking the pig's wing roughly, started walking stolidly through the forest. forest. Never had Dorothy felt so blue, or rather so black and blue, so wet, so discouraged, so thoroughly miserable. And when, sticking out her tongue to see if it was still pink,

she discovered that it too was black, she began sobbing softly to herself. No one will know us any more, she decided dejectedly. We're as badly off now as Osma and the others. Why, oh why did we ever come into this terrible forest? She could feel Pegasus sniffing with sympathy, and suddenly realizing that she was not behaving very well, she straightened up. After all, she still was a princess, even though she was black. Princesses did not cry when they were captured and enchanted. Osma was probably in a worse fix than this, and if Osma was being brave, she would be brave too. So, with a great effort, Dorothy stifled her sobs and began to look around her. To her surprise and astonishment, she discovered that the black

forest was not dark and gloomy as it had seen before, but really quite beautiful. There were many shades and degrees of blackness in the trees and flowers that thickly carpeted the ground. Black birds twittered musically in the branches overhead, and every now and then a deer peered timidly out at her from the woodsy depths between the tree trunks. Begarde, glancing over his shoulder and catching her interested expression, ventured a smile. Why, he's not bad looking at all, thought Dorothy with a pleased start. And maybe this witch may be a good witch. Her name sounds rather pretty. Quite comforted by these reflections, Dorothy whispered a few rhymed remarks in the pig's ear. Pegasus, it must be confessed,

was as interested in what he saw as Dorothy, and when a sudden break between the trees revealed a great black circular wall, with a hundred black flags floating from its many turrets, he gave an involuntary grunt of admiration. You are about to enter the royal circle of Glomer, which of the black forest, announced the guard, raising his hand solemnly. I trust you will conduct yourselves in a fitting manner. Don't worry about our manners, shrilled Pegasus, tossing his head airily. We are accustomed to royalty, and move in exclusive circles at home. And talk in circles, too, muttered the guard impatiently.

Well, well, do the best you can, and bow three times as you approach the throne. Throne? queried Dorothy, slipping off the pig's back so she would not have to talk in rhyme, for what she had to say to the black witch was very serious indeed. Is Glomer a queen? Certainly our witch is a queen, a bewitching queen, retorted the guard, taking Dorothy firmly by the hand and tightening his hold on Pegasus. Now then, smile and look pleasant, and perhaps she'll allow you to be her slave.

She wouldn't dare make me a slave, cried Dorothy, trying her best to pull away from her captor. "'Just let her try it,' blustered Pegasus, scuffling unwillingly along on the other side. But paying no attention to their struggles, the guard lifted his foot and kicked three times on a black ebony door in the wall, and a tall watchman, dressed in a black leather suit, admitted them to the royal circle. It was all so different from what Dorothy had been expecting, she almost forgot her anger. Enclosed by the black marble wall was a strange and enchanting garden. Now, Dorothy had never seen a black garden, nor dreamed one could be so beautiful. Here, sable willows mirrored their feathery branches in long, shining pools.

Here, black plum and cherry trees flaunted their fragile black blossoms, and jet-black fountains sent their smoking waters high into the quiet air. Vast, satiny expanses of lawn were dotted with a hundred beds of dusky roses, tulips, velvety pansies and daffodils. built all around the circular wall was a low but sumptuous black castle, and seated on an ebony throne at the centre of her stately black garden was the black queen herself, looking, Dorothy was thankful to discover, much more like a queen than a witch. Glommer's face was sweet and serious,

her hair fine and glossy as a raven's wing. She was dressed in a trailing robe of black chiffon that billowed in lacy clouds around her feet. A sparkling crown of jet and long jet earrings were her only ornaments. On each side of the black queen crouched a sleek black leopard, and behind the ebony throne stood ten tall foresters with gleaming axes. Like headsmen in a medieval history book, thought Dorothy, as she and Pegasus were dragged rapidly forward.

Glomer, gazing dreamily into a black crystal set on a marble stand before the throne, seemed entirely unaware of their presence, till the harsh voice of the black guard announced them. Hail, black and imperial majesty! Called the guard deferentially, approaching the throne. Two prisoners, a pig and a princess, whom I found wandering unlawfully in our forest, and whom I took the liberty of blacking.

Dorothy, jerking away from the guard, was about to explain how she and Pegasus had lost their way, when Glomer jumped to her feet with a sharp, agonized, scream. Blots! General Blots! What have you done? panted the Black Queen, beating her hands wildly together. Your stupidity has ruined us all. You have blackened and insulted my most dangerous and mortal enemy. Go, leave, be gone and never darken my doors again. Oh, why? Why did you do it? Why have you brought her here? After all these years must I, too, be destroyed and obliterated?

Sinking back on her throne, Glomer covered her face with her hair and began rocking backward and forward in agitation and sorrow. Why, why I believe she's afraid of you, puffed Pegasus, twitching his tail with excitement and interest as General Blots, looking quite dazed, began to move unhappily toward the gate in the wall. Quick! He grunted as the ten foresters back of the throne

rushed forward to surround them. Do something, Dorothy, while she is still afraid of you, make her unblacken us, tell her to set us free, hurry, hurry, before she discovers you are only a harmless little girl. But Dorothy, only half listening to the pig, boldly thrust aside the foresters and ran over to the Black Queen. Why are you afraid of me? asked Dorothy, speaking rapidly but distinctly. I did not come here on purpose.

Pegasus and I are lost and need your help. Help? shivered Gailoma, shrinking as far away from Dorothy as possible. Why should I help you? Are you not Dorothy, the mortal girl who destroyed the powerful witches of the east and west? But that was long ago, explained Dorothy breathlessly, as two of the Queen's henchmen seized her roughly by the arms. And they were bad and wicked witches.

Why should I wish to destroy a good and beautiful witch like you? Do not listen to her. Do not let her touch you. She means to destroy and ensnare you, hissed the foresters as they drag Dorothy away from the throne. Down with all mortals! Away to the dungeons with her! Wing the pig, chop off their heads! At these loud, savage cries, startled faces appeared at the windows of the Black Palace, and struggling in the midst of the foresters, Dorothy heartily wished she had taken the pig's advice. Shall we take off her head now or later? Puffed the fellow who had hold of her left arm.

Now, roared the axeman who had hold of her right. Stop, commanded the Queen, rising suddenly. You cannot harm this girl. Do you not see the star of protection on her forehead? At these words, the woodsman stared for her. fearfully down at Dorothy, and sure enough, shining in the centre of her black forehead was a pure white star. Pegasus, who had not noticed it before himself, gave a grunt of relief, and began kicking out in every direction. How about the pig? yelled a Forrester leaning down to rub his

shins. Shall we take off his head? If you dare touch Pegasus, screamed Dorothy, resolved to use the powers she was supposed to have. I'll turn you all to bats and beetles and horrid black ants. A breathless silence followed Dorothy's threat. The foresters still kept their hold on the prisoner, but at as great a distance as they could manage. Do as you wish, comrades. The tallest of the axe-men solemnly broke the silence. But I'm for letting them alone.

I've never been an aunt yet, and I don't intend to begin now. Come, away to the dungeons with them. This is not for us to settle with axes. It is a case for witch-work. You are right. The queen, who had been standing motionless as a statue, took a decisive step forward. Take them away, but not to the dungeons. Take them to the dark room in my imperial palace. They shall see what happens to those who defy Galoma, which of the black forest.

Aye, high, they shall see, muttered the foresters, pushing Dorothy and Pegasus roughly along ahead of them. End of Chapter 10. Chapter 11 of the Wishing Horse of Oz by Ruth Plumley-Thompson. This Libravox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Beth Thomas Chapter 11, Black Magic Dorothy and Pegasus were hustled into the black castle, rushed down its shiny black corridors, and thrust into a great, dark, dome-shaped room,

so quickly they had no opportunity to exchange a word. Well, anyway, even if it is a dark room, we can still see, whispered Dorothy, as the foresters in their haste to get away from such dangerous prisoners fairly tumbled over each other to get through the door. Yes, puffed Pegasus glumly as the key rasped in the lock. And the first thing I see is that there are no windows. If there was a window we could fly off. As it is, this witch will make short work of us. I wonder how much magic she really knows, sighed Dorothy, seating herself wearily on a black velvet

stool. I wonder, said Pegasus, flinging himself crossly on. on the floor beside her. And what's all this stuff about your being her worst enemy? Did you really destroy two witches? And could you destroy her? Although Pegasus had lived in the Emerald City for several years, he was not familiar with all of the history that had taken place before his arrival.

Oh, all that happened when I first came here, explained Dorothy, clasping her knees with both hands. You see, when the cyclone blew me from Kansas to Oz, my house fell on the wicked witch who ruled the munchkins and killed her. The munchkins, supposing I had done it on purpose, came out and thanked me and gave me the witch's silver shoes. Then, when I reached the Emerald City and begged the wizard, who was the ruler of Oz at that time, to send me back to Kansas, he promised to do so if I killed the wicked witch who ruled the winkies. And did you? asked Piggis, rolling over and looking up at Dorothy with real admiration.

Well, that was sort of an accident too, admitted the little girl honestly. When the tin woodman, the scarecrow and the cowardly lion and I reached the witch's yellow castle, the witch captured us all and made me work hard from morning till night. But one day, Dorothy with an anxious eye on the door, hurriedly continued, One day when she tried to steal my silver shoes, I got so mad, I picked up a bucket of water I'd been using for scrubbing and flung it right over her head. head. And did that destroy her? Pigassus demanded incredulously.

Yes, said Dorothy. It melted her down to nothing at all. But what about the star? I never noticed that before. That's where the good witch of the North comes in, answered Dorothy proudly. Right after my house fell on the Wicked Witch of the West, she appeared, and when she discovered I was a mortal, she kissed me on the forehead to keep me from harm all the time I was in Oz. It only shows now because I'm black, I suppose. Well, why didn't it keep you from turning black if it's so wonderful? Pigacus switched his curly tail resentfully.

I don't know. Dorothy looked thoughtfully around Glomma's strange laboratory. Maybe the spell has worn off. Maybe there's no harm in being black. There may not be any harm in it, but it's pretty sad and mournful if you ask me, grunted Pegasus, glaring savagely at his satiny black sides. I prefer myself pink, and you, pink and white, the way you were. Tea and turnips, first thing I know, you'll be powdering your nose with ashes and soot. But, after all, Pegasus swung himself energetically to his feet. That is the least of our troubles.

What do you suppose this witch will do to us now? And what can we do to her? Sir, hey! Spreading his wings, Pegas has spun round in a triumphant circle. All we have to do is find some water. Why, it's simple as soup. Quick, Dorothy, look and see whether there is any water around here. And then, as soon as Glomer pops her nose in the door,

we'll put her out as neatly as you did that other witch. But those other witches were bad, and Glomer seems really good and beautiful, objected Dorothy, looking around without much enthusiasm. "'Beautiful or not, she's a dark and dangerous lady,' insisted the pig, "'beginning his search in a methodical way. "'And it's her beauty or ours, remember? "'This black queen is quite determined to destroy us, "'if we don't destroy her first.'

"'Yes, I suppose so,' agreed Dorothy. "'Slowly following Pegasus, "'she pulled aside black velvet curtains, "'peered behind cupboards and screens, "'and looked under sofas and chairs. "'There were many ebony cabinets, standing against the wall, but each one was securely locked, and except for a great black crystal ball on a table in the centre of the room, there seemed to be no magical apparatus at all. A dark

lantern swinging from the domed ceiling cast its curious, luminous black rays into every corner of the witch's laboratory. After circling the room three times, Pegasus and Dorothy were forced to admit that there was no water of any kind, or even a pale, available. We'll have to think of something else, grumbled the pig, as Dorothy again sat down on her stool. Are you thinking? He demanded sharply, as the little girl stared absently at the tips of her boots. No, confessed Dorothy frankly. I was just wondering why Glomer calls us a dark room.

She must know, since General Blots ducked us under the Black River, we can see in here as well as in the forest. I wouldn't be too sure of that, muttered the pig, coming over and crowd. as close to Dorothy as he could. It almost seemed as if someone had heard him, for scarcely were the words out of his mouth before the dark lantern over their heads sputtered ominously and went out, leaving them in a perfectly pitch-black total darkness.

Oh, I felt something like this would happen, faltered Pegasus, throwing his left wing protectingly around Dorothy. Listen, someone is coming. A light shore footsteps sounded in the passage, came closer, then a sudden puff of air told them that someone had opened the door. Remember, Piggins dear, no matter what happens, we must be brave, whispered Dorothy, trembling a little in spite of herself.

It's hard to be brave in the dark, but I'll do my best. Here, lean on me. And though the happenings of the next ten minutes were enough to try the courage of a dozen lions, Pigasus kept his word and never uttered a sound. As the two prisoners clung desperately together, the crystal, on the centre table received a sudden, shattering blow. Up spurted a perfect fountain of fire, coming down over Dorothy and Pegasus in a shower of red-hot sparks. But the sparks fell harmlessly as raindrops on the winged pig and the little girl,

and after a great hiss and sputter went out, leaving the laboratory in darkness again. Scarcely had they recovered from this shock before a second blow was struck, and this time a hundred huge, hideous black snakes came writhing out of the crystal, their green glittering eyes lighting up the room with a terrifying sulphurous light. The great twisting mass grew more and more menacing, sending out its long, curving bodies like arms to encircle them. This, thought Dorothy, bearing her head in Pegasus's wing, was black magic at its worst. Now she could feel the clammy coils all around her,

and waited breathlessly to be crushed and broken. But the cold, heavy bodies seemed powerless and without weight, and presently they too slipped away and vanished. A shower of silver arrows followed the snakes, and a cloud of choking green smoke the arrows. But each blow on the crystal only seemed to prove further the potency of the kiss set on Dorothy's forehead so long ago by the good witch of the north. And because she clung so tightly to Pegasus,

he too came unharmed through the hair-raising ordeal. As they both, almost afraid to breathe, waited for the next blow on the dark crystal, a long, tremulous sigh came mournfully through the darkness. Oh, it's no use, murmured a discouraged voice. My black magic is of no avail. Come then, destroy me if you must, but do it quickly, and I pray you will spare my people

who have never harmed or hurt a living soul in Oz. With a little thrill, Dorothy recognized the voice of the Black Queen, and as the dark lantern again shed its twinkling rays over the circular apartment, Glomer rose and came calmly and rapidly toward them. Dorothy and Pegasus, who had just had their own bravery so severely tested, could not but admire the spirit and bravery of the Witch of the Black Forest. Even though she was sure she faced certain destruction, she walked proudly erect.

Her head flung back, her great mass of dust, husky hair billowing behind her. Stop! cried Dorothy, on whom the Queen's dark beauty had made a deep and lasting impression. Why should we wish to destroy you? We came through the yellow wood, and from there into the black forest,

but we only wish to go through as quickly as possible. We are in trouble ourselves. Did you know that Osmer of Oz, the wizard of Oz, the four rulers of Oz, and many others have vanished? There is a false emperor on the throne in the Emerald City, and under the magic of his enchantment, all the people have forgotten Osma ever was their queen.

Piggis and I, escaping this enchantment, are trying to find Osma and someone to help us restore her to power. Dorothy spoke with such earnestness and feeling Glomer could not help believing her. Then, then you did not come here to destroy me at all? She exclaimed, with an unhappy and embarrassed glance at her two prisoners, Forgive me for using my magic powers, I only wanted to save myself.

and my foresters from obliteration. Oh, that's all right. Dorothy dismissed with a careless shrug the danger and discomfort of the last hour. You thought we were going to destroy you, so, of course, you tried to destroy us first. That was fair enough, and I don't blame you. But now that we understand each other better,

perhaps you will help us. Do you yourself remember, Osma? And is your magic powerful enough to tell us where she is? Seating herself in a chair near Dorothy's footstool, Glomer stared thoughtfully at the velvet car. I know or remember nothing of the present history of Oz, she told them after a short silence. At the time the Wizard of Oz ruled Oz, I ruled by royal right and inheritance the entire southern part of the Winky Empire. Although the wicked witch of the east claimed dominion

over the whole country, she only succeeded in bringing the central and northern parts under her control. We in the South were free, but when word came that a mortal girl had destroyed both the witch of the east and the witch of the west, I, being a witch, naturally supposed I would be the next one to suffer destruction. So calling together the strongest and most faithful of my subjects, I begged them to retire with me to a safe and hidden spot where we could live in safety and tranquility, far from the wars, dangers, and changing fortunes of the times. Many of my southern winkies cast their lot with the new order, marching off to the north. But many came with me, and retiring to this hidden forest, we cut our sands.

off from all intercourse with the other kingdoms of Oz, living the free and happy life of foresters, and enjoying all the beauty and benefits of outdoor sport and activity. Of the rulers in Oz since the Wizard, I know nothing whatever. And were you always black? inquired Pegasus, peering inquisitively up into Glomer's face, and wondering whether the two small black wings on each side of her forehead were as useful as his own. No, admitted the Queen, smiling graciously down at her plump questioner. That was part of our disappearing plan. In a dark forest we were so much less likely to be found or discovered.

So, with my knowledge of the black arts, I turned myself and my subjects as black as you now see us. What a shame! What a pity! Dorothy jumped up and perched cozily on the arm of the black queen's chair. If you had just come to the Emerald City, we could have been friends all this while. "'Why not begin now?' smiled the queen, "'putting her arm affectionately around Dorothy's waist.

"'And you must not be sorry for us, "'for here we have been perfectly happy and content, "'and I have grown so fond of my black forest and castle "'I would not change their lovely sable "'for all the other colours in the rainbow. "'But tell me quickly again all that has happened in Oz, "'and perhaps I can make amends "'for the shabby treatment you have received at our hands.'

"'Contrightly, the black queen leaned down to Pat Pigacers, and as Dorothy sketched in most of the important happenings in Oz since the reign of the wizard, the little pig pressed closely against her side. With many interested nods and exclamations, Glomer listened, and when Dorothy described the great festival that had been planned to celebrate the discovery of Oz by mortals, how Osma and all her most important visitors and advisors had vanished at the banquet and a false emperor taken possession of the palace, the queen rose and walked solemnly over to the black crystal.

But after a long look into its inky debts, Glomer turned sadly away. My black magic cannot help you, she told them regretfully. The rulers of Oz and your other friends have been enchanted by green magic, and only by green magic can they be released and restored to power. But I can assist you in other ways, added the Queen, noting the disappointed expressions on the faces of her two new friends. One tap of my scepter will transport you to any country, and here. From a drawer in the ebony table, the queen drew a small black round box.

In this container, you will find a most powerful powder of darkness. One pinch of this powder tossed into the air will cause a black cloud a mile square to envelop and totally darken a city or country. While no one in this darkened area will be able to see you, it will be perfectly possible for you to see them as clearly as in the usual daylight. In case of danger, it affords a safe way to escape from the enemy. To dispel the cloud, you merely close the box. That ought to be just the thing to use if we ever get back to the Emerald City,

observed Pegasus, scratching his left ear with his right hind paw. Why, we could swoop down on this emperor, bind him fast, and tweak him by the nose before he even knew what was happening. Why so we could, beamed Dorothy brightening up at once. And now, though of course, black is a perfectly beautiful colour, could you change us back to the colours we were when we came? Dorothy spoke timidly, for she did not want to hurt Glomer's feelings. As soon as you leave the forest, you will resume your natural colouring.

The witch assured them with a little smile. And where, may I ask, were you planning to go first? Well, said Dorothy slowly, I thought perhaps the country's outside of Oz might not be under this forgetting spell, and that we might find in one of them a king who would lend us his army and help us to chase Scamperew out of the Emerald City. Could you transport us as far as Ev, Your Majesty? As easily as I could invite you to dinner,

Glooma assured them with an energetic little nod. And I hope you will not only have dinner, but rest yourselves before you start again on your dangerous journey. Pegasus! Pegasus! Did you hear that? She can transport us all the way to Eve. Didn't I tell you we might find a good witch in this forest? Now everything will be all right. "'So glad we met and got acquainted.

"'You're not so black as you are painted,' chuckled Pigacus, "'breaking into rhyme from sheer good humour and relief. "'And did I hear Your Majesty invite us to—' "'Dinner?' "'You certainly did,' said Glomer, "'and dropping them a little bow, she swept gaily through the door. "'Do you suppose it will be a black dinner?' "'whispered Pigasus, trotting briskly along beside Dorothy.

"'I've heard of light repasts, but never a-werects. Dark ones, but I don't care. I'm hungry enough to eat a tar pudding with cinder sauce. Shush! warned Dorothy with a little laugh. She'll hear you. End of Chapter 11. Chapter 12 of The Wishing Horse of Oz by Ruth Plumley Thompson.

This Librevox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Beth Thomas. Chapter 12. Farewell to the Black Forest. Although the dinner in the Black Castle was a as dark a repast as Pegasus had predicted. Never had he or Dorothy dined more royally, nor partaken of more delicate fare. The black bean soup was followed by a black fish course, and then came the dark meat of some superbly cooked fowl. Probably cinder roosters, as Piggas remarked in one of his humorous asides. The licorice was the most delicious of the vegetables,

though the black asparagus and potatoes were appetising too. Black bread was served with the black grape salad, and plum-cake with black frosting with the black icees and black berryade. The members of Gloaumas household, now that their fear of Dorothy had been explained away, proved so interesting and merry the time simply flew. The black lace frocks of women and children, and the soft leather suits of the black foresters, were simple but elegant, and the black queen herself, so lovely just to look at her, gave one a curious thrill. General Blots, recalled from banishment by Black Jack, the Queen's pet Jackdaw, proved a singer of no mean ability,

and regaled the company with many of the famous black ballads and hunting songs. Pegasus too contributed to the general fun and gaiety with some of his best songs and verses, and ate so many slices of the black plum cake, Dorothy began to feel positively uneasy. Interesting and delightful as it all was, the little girl could not help thinking of Osma and her other unfortunate and captive friends,

And as the black banjo clock in the corner of the hall struck a musical ten, she lightly touched the arm of Glomer. The black queen had graciously placed Dorothy beside her. I think we had better go now, whispered Dorothy earnestly. If Pegasus eats any more, he'll fall asleep, and we'll have to wait till morning. Glomer smiled and nodded understandingly, then pressing Dorothy's hand for goodbye, stole quietly off to her workshop. Dorothy tried to signal Pegasus across the gleaming black table,

but before she could catch his eye he had vanished, and she herself was whirling dizzily through space. Maybe it would have been better to have spent the night in the castle, mused Dorothy, spreading her arms like wings as she sailed through the air. I don't suppose we'll be able to see in the dark now that we are out of the black forest, and goodness knows where we'll come down. There was no moon, and peer about as she would, Dorothy could not even catch a glimpse of the flying pig.

Of course, Dorothy went on conversationally to her, We could have flown all this distance on Piggins' back, but this is quicker and less trouble. But, oh dear, I do hope he's all right. Her worry about the pink pig ended rather abruptly, for at that very moment she began to somersault over and over in a headlong drop to the ground. A painful grunt as she landed assured her of the pig's presence. "'What are you trying to do? Puncture me?' puffed Piggasers, as Dorothy, with an embarrassed little gasp of apology, rolled off his back.

"'such rudeness,' grunted her companion, scrambling to his feet with an angry snort, "'flinging us out of the castle as if we'd been garbage. "'Yes, garbage,' he repeated, blinking rapidly. "'It was my fault,' cried Dorothy, moving over to smooth out his ruffled wing feathers. "'I asked her to transport us to Ev and—oh, Piggins!' "'By the light of a crooked lamp set in a crevice of the rocky path "'on which they found themselves, Dorothy regarded him rapturously.

"'You're pink again.' "'Am I? Well, that's something.' "'Waddling closer to the lamp, Pegasus examined himself with careful attention. "'You're pink too,' he said a little more pleasantly. "'But these magic transportations are a bit sudden, if you ask me, "'and I'm not at all sure I like this spot. "'Where are we anyway?'

"'Oh, it's all right, and now we don't have to travel at all. "'We're here,' announced Dorothy, "'who had hurried on a few steps ahead. "'And where is here?' grumbled Pegasus following pompously more from too much plum-cake than from a desire to be disagreeable. "'Why, at Calico's Mountain!' exclaimed Dorothy, pointing excitedly to a small door in the rocky surface before them. "'Now we don't have to decide between the Gnome King and the King of Ev. Since we are here, we'll try Calico first.'

"'Trying him is all very well, but I hope he does not try any magic on us,' yawned Pigas, squinting sleepily up at the brass sign hung on the stout wooden door. What does it say there? A green lantern hung over the door, and by its flickering light, Dorothy read slowly. Back door of the Gnome King's underground castle. No dogs, babies or chickens allowed. No goldfish wanted. No peddlers or snailsmen need a ply.

Keep out and stay out. This means you. Oh, that's all right, laughed Dorothy, as Piggas looked rather alarmed at the sternly worded notice. We're not babies or chickens or goldfish. And Calico's a friend of mine. Come on. Lifting the knocker and smiling confidently, Dorothy knocked three times on the Gnome King's back door. End of Chapter 12.

Chapter 13 of the Wishing Horse of Oz by Ruth Plumley Thompson. This Libra Vox recording is in the public domain. Read by Beth Thomas. Chapter 13. In Calico's Castle. What is it, Shuffin Waller? Calico, the thin and grey little.

little king of the gnomes peered impatiently down from the great carved gem-studded rock that served him for a throne. Shoo, go away. You know this is my hour for retiring. Go away, I tell you. And if you never come back, it will still be too soon. Yes, but your majesty. While obediently backing toward the door, the king's royal Chamberlain extended his arms imploringly. Something has come up. The long-eared heera reports footsteps on the South Mountain. Two visitors are about. to enter the back door of our castle. Visitors! exclaimed Calicoe, getting up with an impatient flounce, at this hour, well, tell them to go away and come back tomorrow. Here, wait a moment.

As Schufenwalla, shrugging his narrow shoulders, turned to carry out his orders, Calico changed his mind. Just hand me my spectacles, commanded the King Crossley. I may as well have a look at the prowling pests. With another shrug, Schufenwalla stepped to a small cabinet, and taking a pair of small, smoked glasses from the top drawer, handed them up to the king. Now, Calico's expectacles were very useful, enabling him to see who was coming before they arrived. And clapping them hurriedly on his thin nose, he stared intently off into space. At what he saw, the king's expression changed from irritation to vague uneasiness. Botheration, he muttered morosely. It's one of those

mortals from the Emerald City. Why can't those girls stay home? Always poking their noses into other people's affairs and trying to save somebody from something? Which one is it? asked Schofenwalla, blinking. It's Dorothy, sighed Calico, taking off his expectacles and putting them absently into his pocket. And there's a queer kind of winged pig with her. A pig with wings, mind you. Rooks and rockets. Wonder what they want. Why not find out? suggests Schuvenwalla reasonably. No, no, not tonight. Calico waved his arms determinedly. Just, conduct them to the red guest cave Schuvenwalla and bring them to me in the morning.

With a stiff bow, the Royal Chamberlain backed out of the door and patted away to admit the visitors. And about time, too, thought Dorothy as the rock door opened cautiously, and the little crooked gnome thrust out his head. In the name of King Calico I hereby welcome you to gnome man's land, began Schuvenwalla pompously. Oh, that's all right, yawned Pigacus wearily. What we want is a place to sloth sleep, and remember, no trickery, he added sharply, as the gnomes to decide so that they could enter the narrow rock passageway. I suppose your highness comes on a matter of state, remarked Schofenwalla, turning from Pegasus with an involuntary grimace. Pigs reminded him

of ham, ham reminded him of eggs, and eggs were immediate death and destruction to gnomes. Well, yes, admitted Dorothy, adjusting her step to the short, crooked legs of the king's little counsellor. What I really need is an army. An army? Grown Schofenwalla, realising what bad news this would be for his master. Our army? Oh, let's talk about all that in the morning, weased Pegas' as Dorothy briskly nodded her head in answer to Schufean Waller's question. The pink pig was taking sleepy, sidelong squints at the elegantly excavated and gemmon-crusted corridors of the Gnome King's underground dwelling. Just what his majesty suggested. muttered the Chamberlain, sweeping open a red iron door with a ruby knob.

I trust you'll be comfortable here, and rest well. If your highness wishes a cup of calico, or your friend a mud pie or pudding, just ring the bell. Good night, princess. Good night, uh, pig. Sir, hey, I resent that. Pigger says cocked his ears belligerently as the king's little crooked messenger bowed himself out the door. Did you notice the way he said, Pig, Dorothy?

Yes, said Dorothy with a little yawn. I did, but then all gnomes are sassy, and you'll have to get used to them. If Calico helps us, that's all we care about. Pigassus nodded rather grimly. I suppose this is what you call getting down to bedrock, he murmured, looking around at the red rock apartment with his amused blue stare. Hope the beds aren't rock too. Punching a red sofa experimentally and finding it surprisingly soft,

the pink pig jumped up and settled himself cozily among the cushions. Pegasus had lived in castles and palaces all his life and was so accustomed to comfort and luxury that without bothering to look around Calico's richly appointed guest cavern, he closed his eyes and fell asleep. Dorothy, tiptoeing through a curtain into an adjoining red rock cavern that served as a bedroom, undressed quickly, and putting out the ruby lamps slid thankfully between the red silk sheets

and was soon as soundly asleep as Pegasus. They were just having breakfast, served by two small gnomon in their red sitting cave, when Schufenwalla came hurrying in to announce that Calico was ready and waiting to see them. Earlier the Gnome King and his Chamberlain had discussed the possible purposes of Dorothy's visit, and Calico had been extremely annoyed to learn that she wanted to borrow his army. And will you lend it to her? All our hundred thousand trained nomen yeoman? questioned Schuvenwalla anxiously. What else can I do?

Calicoe snapped his little grey eyes unhappily. Remember, it was Dorothy who stole the former Noam King's magic belt, and really was the means of my becoming king. That's so, muttered Schofern Waller, pulling his ear reflectively. But why not use a little strategy in this conference, King? Why not pretend to help her, and at the same time safeguard your own interests? Lending our army is a dangerous experiment. Suppose an enemy threatened us while our fighting forces were in the

Emerald City. Anything could happen. Put her off. Make excuses, urged Truffin Waller craftily. This suggestion fell in exactly with the Gnome King's wishes. And curious to know what had really brought Dorothy to his castle, he sent his little Chamberlain hurrying off to bring her to the throne room. And now for a little Cali coaxing, sniffed Biggassus, waddling unconcernedly along beside Dorothy, under magnificent arches, over artificial terraces and rock gardens, gazing down long, of yet unmind shafts, where hundreds of gnomes worked busily with picks and shoals to further enrich the already enormously rich and powerful little metal monarch. Calico, as they entered the beautifully furnished and lavishly carved cave that he used for a throne

room, came hurrying to meet them. So charming of you to come all this way, just to see me, murmured the Gnom king, taking both of Dorothy's hands in his own and bowing graciously as she introduced Pigacus. Always delighted to entertain a princess from the court of her. Royal Highness Osma of Oz. Oh, Calico, then you do remember her. Oh, please, dear Calico, will you help us to find her? Find her?

Why, what under earth do you mean? Is Osma lost? Calico's long face that Dorothy's excited greeting grew visibly longer. And after the little girl had explained the disappearance of Osma and the others, the enchantment of all the people in Oz and the coming of Scamperew to the Emerald City, Calico climbed wearily back on his throne and sat down. This, this is shocking, faltered Calico, mopping his forehead with a long grey cobweb. And just what do you and this, this pig, intend to do about it?

Well, what do you intend to do about it? Rather tired of being called a pig, Pegasus planted all four feet and stared defiantly up at the perturbed metal monarch. Well, that is, I don't see that it's my effect. fair at all, mumbled Calico with a rueful nod of his head. Anyone powerful enough to conquer Osma and Oz would pay small attention to any opinions of mine. But we don't want your opinions, stated Pegasus bluntly. What we want is your army, and any magic you can conveniently spare.

Please, Calico do help us, begged Dorothy, running up the carved rock steps of the throne and seating herself coaxingly on the arm. With all your thousands of gnomes and many magic powers, we can certainly drive Scampereux out of the Emerald City. Well, of course, sighed Calico, flattered by Dorothy's reference to his magic powers. I'll do what I can, but if what you say is true, it will take more than one army to reconquer Oz. As he said this, Calico looked across at Schofenwalla, and the little Chamberlain, well pleased with his master's strategy, gave him an encouraging wink. I'll tell you what I'll do. Calicoe crossed his legs and regarded Dorothy through half-closed eyes.

If you find another king willing to send his army into Oz, I will also send mine. Remember, even Osmer's closest friends and retainers have forgotten her, and the entire population, now fully convinced Scamperew as their rightful ruler, will rise to oppose us. Yes, yes, yes. But have you no magic that will dispel this world? wicked enchantment, or help us to locate our friends and sovereigns?

demanded Pegasus not wholly satisfied with the Gnome King's offer. No magic may be of no use in this case. Nevertheless, I will send for my wizard and see what can be done. Remembering their last experience with magic, Dorothy stepped down from Calico's throne and seated herself quietly on the pink pig's back. And Pegasers, grunting with relief, squinted suspiciously at the small, ugly wizard of the Underworld, who presently came shuffling into the Royal Presence Chamber. As quickly as possible, Calico explained to the wizard all the dire happenings in Oz.

Do you think our magic spyglass could locate Osma and her missing friends and associates? Or tell us whether they have been utterly and completely destroyed? Demanded the Gnome King gravely. Poeteru, the king's magician, stood pulling his straggly whiskers for several moments after Calico had finished speaking. Then he stamped four times on the flagged floor with his right foot. Almost instantly, four gnome wise men in peaked hats came into the throne room, wheeling a huge telescope before them.

Dorothy and Pegasus, prickling with suspense and terror, watched the wizard screw his eye to the end of the twisting spyglass. After several snorts and surprised exclamations, Potaru straightened up. The missing Ozians and the Wizard of Ev are hidden away in Thunder Mountain, he stated in a horse whisper. electric little silence followed Potaru's disclosure, and as no one uttered a sound, the wizard continued, as the spyglass is now pointing north, I believe you will find Thunder Mountain in that

direction. But I must warn you that it will be a long and exceedingly dangerous journey. Danger? Well, what do we care for that? Quick somebody fetch you my coat, my hat. This hardly seems a time for jokes and verses, murmured Calico. looking at Dorothy in mild disapproval. She has to make verses and rhymes when she rides me. I'm a poetry pig, and a lucky star guides me, grunted Pegasus, too overcome by the wizard's awful news, to realise he was speaking in verse himself.

Oh, what difference does it make? cried Dorothy, jumping quickly off his back. We must go to Thunder Mountain at once. Pegasus can fly there. Here, here, not in such a hurry, exclaimed Calico, secretly delighted at the prospect of being so easily rid of his troubles. We must pack you a lunch basket, and tell me, Potarou, have you any magic that will make the journey less dangerous for these brave young adventurers?

Magic? Stuttered Potoroo, his eyes growing glassy at the mere thought of parting with any of his magic treasures. Well, I could lend them a box of my famous triple-action stumbling blocks. They will overthrow any enemy, no matter how numerous. Splendid! Beamed Calicoe, rubbing his hands, briskly together. And don't forget, in the course of your journey north, if you find a king willing to lend his army, my army also will be ready and at your service. Oh, Calico, how kind you are! Running up the steps of the throne again, Dorothy gave the Gnome King an impulsive hug. Come on, come on, squealed Pegasus, who had seen the various winks of Calico and Schofenwalla,

and was convinced that the little gnome king was doing as little as he possibly could. Give us our lunch are now stumbling blocks, and we'll be off. And I must say there'll be an enormous help when we reach Thunder Mountain. Spreading his wings, Piggas began to fly in angry circles around the Gnome King's head. Hmm, pork's going up, sniff and waller, as he hurried away to see about packing the lunch basket. He ought to be dried, smoked and salted,

muttered Potaroo, going sulkily off to fetch the blocks. Dorothy, in earnest consultation with Calico, heard neither of these remarks. and when a few moments later the two returned with two boxes and Dorothy's hat and coat, she thanked them politely, called Pegasus down from a rocky ledge where he had flown, and climbed happily on his back. Then Pegasus, not giving her any time for lengthy farewells, zipped through the tunneled caverns and corridors of the Gnome King's underground dominions, and burst thankfully out the back door of South Mountain.

Now let's see, which way is north? mused Pegasus, twirling his curly tail around like a propeller. All we have to do is fly north to Thunder Mountain, unlock its thunderbolts, restore the rulers of Oz, toss tumbling blocks at all our enemies, raise a grand army, and then King Calico will help us. Isn't it just too magnificent? Why, Piggins, how mean of you? Surely you know, the Gnome King's our friend. Don't you like Calico? No, said Pegasus fiercely, hurling himself into the air.

"'Well, anyway, we're better off than we were before,' thought Dorothy, after several rhymed attempts to draw Pegasus into a conversation. "'At least we now know where Osma is, and have two kinds of magic and the promise of an army. Really, we're getting on quite fast. But perhaps had she seen the king and his chamberlain, nodding their heads like two little China mandarin's as she and Pegasus left the throne room, she would not have felt so cheerful. "'That's the last we'll ever see of her,' chuckled Schufenwalla,

dropping a dried lizard instead of a lump of sugar into his tea. Nomes always flavour their tea with lizards. No one yet has ever come safely back from Thunder Mountain. But what about this new Emperor of Oz? Oh, that will be all right. Callico waved one hand airily. I would much rather have a man on the throne of Oz. Osma is always involving me in wars or demanding the rights of the smaller kingdoms.

So long may she stay in Thunder Mountain and long scamparoo, rule in Ombuds. Long live the Emperor, echoed Schofenwalla, and clicking their teacups gaily together, the two bad little gnomes drained to the last drop their black and bitter tea. And we should not be too hard on Calico, I suppose, for like all dwellers under the earth, his heart is grey and flinty as the rock that forms his cavern. The blood in his veins cold and sluggish, as the leaden waters of the underground rivers that wind sullenly through his dark domain. End of Chapter 13.

of the Wishing Horse of Oz by Ruth Plumley Thompson. This Librevox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Beth Thomas. Chapter 14, The Emperor of Oz. The same morning Dorothy wakened in the rustic summer house of the Winky Farmer, Scamparoo opened his eyes upon the unaccustomed grandeur of Osmer's royal palace. The banquet had lasted till long after three o'clock, then still chuckling and yawning, he had waved good-night.

to his hilarious and amiable subjects and led Chalk off to bed. Twenty footmen with twenty lighted tapers proceeded him to Osmer's own apartment. But dismissing this as too plain and simple, he had taken the immense green guest suite across the hall. Chalk would have much preferred a stall in the royal stable with the other four-footed members of the castle party, but Scamperew would not hear of such a separation. He wanted his white wishing horse close at hand,

not only because through him and the magic emeralds he could satisfy every wish, but because for the first time in his long, lazy, selfish life, he had found someone he liked better than himself. In Scamperew's eyes, chalk was absolutely perfect, and as his own wish had brought the Golden Main Charger into being, he felt as proud and important as a parent with his first child. After a few regretful sniffs out of the window, a few short turns up and down their immense and elegance,

sleeping apartment, Chalk leaped lightly on one of the large green beds and settled himself gracefully for the night. Covering Chalk tenderly with a green satin quilt, Scampereux hastily disrobed, and clutching his precious necklaces climbed wearily into the other bed. There, without even stopping to wish himself good-night, he fell into a deep and tranquil slumber. Indeed, both, in spite of the strangeness of their surroundings, slept soundly till morning. About eight o'clock, Chalk, lifting his head from the embroidered pillow, looked indulgently across at the new Emperor of Oz. Sitting up in bed, Scampereu was busily counting the gems in his three magic chains.

Oh, throw those silly beads away! advised the white horse, jumping out of bed with a gay toss of his golden mane. You have nothing else to wish for, Kingeling. Nothing more at all. This green carpet looks good enough to eat, but I have a fancy to nibble the clover in your majesty's garden while it is still fresh with you. Say it again, begged Scamparoo, closing his eyes and clasping himself blissfully round the middle. Your majesty's garden, your majesty's palace, your majesty's kingdom of Oz.

We need the white horse, rising on his hind legs and pirouetting round with mischievous little prances. But come, mimp! What are your wishes for today? I think we will have to use the necklaces after all. You must certainly have some new clothes. It would never do to appear this morning in the suit you wore last night. You had better have some sleeping garments too. I have a notion that emperors do not sleep in their raw hides like horses.

Scamparoo, giggling self-consciously, dragged the satin sheets up to his chin. for to tell the truth he had arrived in the Emerald City with only one suit to his back, and an extremely shabby one at that. Maybe I'd better change my face, too, he murmured, to go with all this, you know. Dreamily, Scamparoo waved his hands about, and then, leaning forward, slipped the chains over Chalk's ear. What's the matter with the face you have? demanded Chalk, gazing fondly at the red, rotund countenance of his master. I like you just as you are.

and if you change, I wouldn't even know you. But I'll tell you what you can wish, after you've ordered yourself some new clothes. Wish yourself a seasoned rider, and then we can go far and wide, kingling, Far and wide at a furious gallop, and none shall say us nay, hey, hey! And none shall say us nay, trilled scampereu, rolling out of bed, covers and all. To wish himself fifty jewel-encrusted robes, boots, crowns, and all the undergarments to go with them, 50 splendid sleeping robes and 50 suits of riding clothes took but a moment.

He and chalk could hear them landing with little thuds on the hangars in the many closets as Scamperew finished speaking. Then, being naturally lazy, the new emperor wished that he had already had his bath and was dressed in his green riding clothes. So immediately he was. And winking at his clever assistant advisor, he next wished himself the best right in Oz. Then taking back his necklaces, he buttoned them carefully in a little pocket over his heart, and went over to the mirror to have a look at himself. How about this governing stuff? Puffed the self-made emperor, turning this way and that to get a good view of his new clothes. Oh, I shouldn't bother about governing, answered chalk carelessly.

A well-governed country like this should be able to run itself for a few weeks. By that time, be ready for more serious matters, but right now I'm all for enjoying myself. A splendid idea that, of putting all the rulers and the wizard and his magic out of the way. The rest of your court and subjects are exceedingly sensible and jolly. And if we are pleasant and sensible too, everything will be what-ho and so cosy. So let's go below and start our first day of Emperor "'I'm sorry, Chalk pranced away toward the door. "'You're sure I look all right?' asked Scamparoo, with another anxious squinted his reflection. "'Seems to me I'm a bit too fat.'

"'Oh, don't worry about that,' said Chalk, rolling his eyes wickedly. "'Come along, come along, and I'll soon shake some of that fat off you. "'Up with you, kingling, and let's do our oats.' To his delight and pleasure, Scamperew had not the slightest trouble mounting, and once in the saddle he felt perfectly at home, even when chalk bounded through the door, took the long circular steps between a canter and a gallop, and ran madly three times round the royal gardens.

On fine days, Osmer always had breakfast in her private garden, and it being an especially fine day, the palace servants without thought or question had placed the royal table under the trees. It was still fairly early, and none of the guests or members of the household were down, but this did not spoil Scamparoo's excellent appetite at all. Ordering Chalk a breakfast of oats, bran and quartered apples,

he seated himself gaily at the head of the table. The green riding hat, set well over one ear, became him vastly well, and Chalk, regarding him proudly from the foot of the table, thought him every inch an emperor, even if round the waist there were a good many too many inches. I wish Pinypenny could see you. now, sighed the horse, sinking contentedly back on his haunches.

And how I should have enjoyed seeing Martia's face when he finally discovered you and the necklaces were gone. By the way, perhaps we should do something about Matia. Pinypenny will attend to him, said Scamperew, popping a huge cherry into his mouth and nodding his head reassuringly. I'll wager Pinypenny sent the fellow packing the moment he found himself King. Wonder how Piny-Penny is making out anyway. But suppose Martia should follow us here, went on chalk. Having been in existence only two days, he knew little of Oz or Geosophy. He can't come here, Scamperew told him triumphantly.

There's a deadly desert between Scampavia and Oz that no one in my father's lifetime or in mine has ever crossed, that is, with the exception of ourselves, and we were wished across, which doesn't count. Then, as four footmen with heaping trays appeared, he winked at chalk, and the white horse lapsed into a thoughtful silence. And Scamparoo had been perfectly correct in his conjectures about Piny Penny. When, with a resounding clunk, the king's gold crown had fallen upon the astonished Prime Minister, his head had gone entirely through, so he was forced to wear it much as a

dog wears a collar. But even so, he was not slow to realise the significance of this odd happening, or the power it brought with it. Gripping the sceptre which had forced itself into his hand, he rushed into the throne room to find out what strange whim of his master had made him acting king of the realm. A glance around the throne room was enough to show him that Scampereu was not there. And when he saw Martia sitting so unconcernedly in the book alcove, a sudden rage and conviction seized him. Whatever had happened, Martia was to blame. Leave this palace at once, shouted Piny Penny, stamping first one foot and then the other.

At once do you hear, or I'll call out the guard. Martia, still deep in the history of Oz, looked up in astonishment, and when he saw the little Prime Minister, wearing Scampereux crown round his neck and brandishing his sceptre, he gave a perfect bellow of anger and dismay. Where is the king? He roared, looking wildly around the throne room. And why are you wearing his crown?

Where's Scamparu? Where are the necklark? "'Ask yourself!' Raged Piny-Penny, shaking the scepter threateningly. "'Everything was quiet and peaceful till you and your necklaces arrived at this palace. "'There's some magic trickery about them and about you. "'Don't think I was fooled by that horse story. "'A horse does not appear out of the air.

"'Well, now the king's gone. "'The horse is gone, and unless you are gone in ten seconds, "'I'll have you thrown out the window. "'Ten seconds do you. You hear? This crown and sceptre came to me through no wish or choice of my own, but since they did come to me, I am the king, and I intend to rule this country. My first official act will be to rid myself of your filthy presence. Now then, start walking, merchant, and don't stop till you reach the border. Twenty guards will follow to see you safely out of the

country. You wait till Scamparoo hears about this, blustered Mataya, backing a while. away in alarm from the determined little Prime Minister. I'm more important to him than anyone else. Then why aren't you with him? inquired Piny Penny shrewdly. No, wherever he's gone, he has gone without you. I am the king, and I do not need you. So be off.

Clapping his hands, Pini gave a sharp command to the guards who came hurrying in answer to his summons. Retiring rapidly to escape the tips of their sharp spikes, Martia sullenly began his long march. It was nightfall by the time the little company reached the edge of Scampavia. Here, in a wilderness of rock and rubble, the guardsman left him, with food enough for a couple of days, and stern warnings never to return to Scampavia. Far to the west, the miserable merchant could see the comforting lights of Merriland,

but he had no desire to go there, or east to the kingdom of Ix. Instead, he stared hopelessly across the wilderness to where the heaving sands of the deadly desert gleamed like molten silver in the moonlight. How had that rascally monarch ever escaped without his seeing him? How could he ever safely cross the deadly desert and hoped to reach Oz? How had Scamparoo, who seemed so dumb and foolish, ever discovered the secret of using the magic emeralds when he himself had failed to do so? How?

How? Crouched on a flat rock, munching one of the sandwiches left by the guards, Martia scowled evilly across the grimly. desert, his thoughts as treacherous and shifting as its deadly sands. End of Chapter 14. Chapter 15 of The Wishing Horse of Oz by Ruth Plumley Thompson. This Libra Box recording is in the public domain. Recording by Beth Thomas.

Chapter 15. The Dunas All day, with only a short pause for lunch, Pegasus had flown north, Dorothy, keeping a sharp lookout for Thunder Mountain, or mountains of any sort, but the wild, desolate country through which they were flying was flat, desert-like, and apparently perfectly uninhabited. A fine, healthy chance we have of finding an army here, snorted Pegasus, as the afternoon drew to a hot, weary clothes.

And what we'll do when we find Thunder Mountain? I haven't the faintest notion, have you? Even if I butt my nose black, blue, and blunt, and you break both knuckles, beating on its rocky exterior. How can we ever hope to enter such a place? Much less release our unfortunate sovereigns. I told you Calico was a scoundrel. I'll wager he's sent us on a wild goose chase just to get us out of the way. Ah, don't say I told you so. There's always some way, you know, said Dorothy, almost as downhearted as Pegas, though she would not admit it. The pink pig, rather ashamed of himself, flew for several miles without saying anything. Then, in a

rather gruff voice, he called Dorothy's attention to the changing nature of the scenery below. Notice the hills? He snorted more hopefully. Maybe there is a mountain after all, but the sun's going down and I'm ready to sink myself. So let's descend and see whether we can find a nice soft rock on which to lay our heads. Not hills, dunes, cried Dorothy, bouncing off as soon as Pegasus touched Earth. Sand dunes. We must be near the coast and the non-nestic ocean. It does smell salty, agreed Pegasus, sniffing the air eagerly. But suppose we save the ocean for tomorrow.

My feet ache, my wings ache, and I'm hollow as a drum. Then we'll have supper, decided Dorothy sensibly. So seating themselves comfortably with their backs against a dune, the two weary explorers finished up all the cold meat, fruit, pie and sandwiches Schufenwalla had packed up for them. After a long, wistful sniff into the box convinced him was not another crumb. Piggas has folded his wings, lay down in the soft sand at the foot of the dune, giving only indistinct grunts and snorts to Dorothy's questions and observations.

Finally, getting no answer at all, Dorothy discovered he was asleep. The regular rise and fall of the pink pig sides, the soft, drowsy singing of the west wind, lulled Dorothy into a pleasant state of dreaminess, and presently with her head comfortably pillowed on the pig's plumped shoulder, she fell asleep too. It must have been hours later, when terrified squeals from Pegasus and the patter of a hundred hurrying feet made her start up in alarm.

Still only half awake, she was startled to find herself and Pegasus surrounded by a horde of savage-looking sandmen. In the pale and watery moonlight, they looked like creatures out of some very bad dream. Their bodies were roughly moulded of sand, their eyes strangely green and phosphorescent, while their hair, rising,

like beech grass from their pointed heads waved about their lumpy faces. Clutching the basket that contained her small store of clothing, the Black Witch's Powder of Darkness and Potaroo's box of stumbling blocks, Dorothy pressed back against the dune. Her first idea of leaping on the pig's back and bidding him fly was useless. Pigacus lay helplessly on his side, his wings and legs bound tightly with long strands of tough, strong seaweed. Thankful to find that she at least was free, Dorothy went a step closer to her struggling, squealing, furious little comrade. As she did so, a perfect shower of sandballs came flying toward them.

The sharp sting of the sandmen's missiles not only awoke her completely, but goaded her into instant and angry action. Stop that! Stop that at once! She cried, stamping her foot indignantly. But her words only brought another shower of sandballs down on their heads. You have dared to invade the sacred domain of the Dunors! yelled the rasping voice of the leader, rattling a long string of sea shells he wore around his neck. And therefore you shall be sand-balled, sand-bagged, and made into sand-witches for the sand-crabbs.

If the duner had not looked so wild and dangerous, his foolish threat might have been amusing. But as he and his bandy-legged sandmen came leaping forward, Pigacus gave a squeal of sheer terror, and Dorothy, raising the basket over her head, hurled it with all her might into the midst of the advancing army. The effect was immediate and astonishing, cowering down beside Pegasus and expecting to be seized or trampled on. Dorothy saw the first line of Dunas going down like a row of ten pins, and then all the others began tumbling and tripping and falling in heaps.

No sooner would a sandman rise, then he would instantly tumble down again, and their squalls and screeches of rage was so piercing, Dorothy put both hands over her ears. It's the blocks, weased Pigacus, managing to lift his head a few inches. Calico's stumbling blocks are flying like fur and fury. Now if they just keep them down for a while longer, we might get away.

Dorothy, peering sharply into the midst of the tumbling dunas, saw the 50 magic squares released from their box when she flung her basket, fairly exploding with activity. And scramble up as they would after each tumble, the sandmen could not advance an inch, nor even managed to stand direct. The leader, attempting to crawl forward on his hands and knees, was caught by a dozen of the whirling missiles

and rolled back like a log among his churning comrades. Hooray! Three tears for Calico! Puffed Pegasus. Quick, my girl, see if you can untie these wretched seaweeds, and we'll be flying and off in a pig whistle. I have a pair of scissors in my basket, if it hasn't fallen out, and anyway, I'm not going without my things. declared Dorothy, now quite bold since the enemy had been overcome by magic.

And in spite of the pig's anxious squeals of warning, she rushed forward, grabbed her basket and began picking up her scattered belongings, noting with a sigh of relief that the box containing the powder of darkness was still closed. With the scissors still safe in the little pocket in the side of the basket, she soon clipped trusses from Pegasus, and clasping the basket in her arms climbed swiftly on his back. Pigasus, without one backward glance, rose straight into the air and again headed north. Dorothy, peering fearfully over his left wing, saw the Dunas spring suddenly to their feet,

and then, like frightened prairie dogs, disappear into many holes in the sand. Funny? mused Dorothy, that they had not noticed these openings before. Funny that the Dunas had stopped stumbling as soon as she and Pegasus had taken to the air. Funny, but then everything was funny. Right in the middle of her conjectures, the box of stumbling blocks, now closed and tied with a red ribbon, dropped, plink, into the middle of her basket. Someone's throwing things, gasped Pegasus, flapping his wings a bit faster and looking rather wildly over his shoulder.

No, just our box of stumbling blocks, yawned Dorothy. Now that the excitement was over, she felt dreadfully tired, and even the sight of the non-nestic ocean rippling and gleaming a few yards ahead, did not arouse or interest. her. It did not interest Pegasus, either. He was far from pleased to find himself so near the coast. I don't like this. I don't like this at all, muttered the pig, perking up his ears and wiggling his nose rapidly. We've flown straight north, and instead of striking thunder mountain, we strike the sea, and how could a mountain be in the middle of a sea? There are mountains on islands, and I have a notion, there are plenty of islands out there in the ocean, said Dorothy sleepily,

recalling the days she had studied geography in the United States. Take Japan, for instance, over there, mountains are simply everywhere. I don't care if they are, answered Pegasus fiercely. I won't go to Japan, and I'll not go a wing's breadth over this ocean tonight. Islands or no islands. So, hey, there's the North Star to our left, so we're not going North at all. Where, of course, that's what we are. North Star, North Star, of course we are.

"'Ah!' mumbled Dorothy with the drowsy nod. "'You're asleep!' scolded Pegasus in a worried voice. "'I'd better land.' "'If you land too soon, you'll strike a dune,' warned Dorothy with another yawn. After a quick glance below, and convinced they were still over the duna's domain, pigasus spread his wings a bit wider and swung along the coast, looking carefully for a safe place to land and spend the rest of the night. He was so busy squinting downward that he never saw the long, curious,

like shadow shooting after him with incredible accuracy and speed. A terrific blast of air as it rushed by them on the right was his first warning of danger. Dorothy too, caught unaware, gave a faint shriek as an immense snake-like body curved back and began to coil round and round them like some gigantic air serpent. It is a snake, thought poor Dorothy, as Piggasus hung helplessly in the little circle of air left in the centre of its coils. neither spoke, for truly there seemed nothing to say or do. Then, just as a suspense grew too awful to be endured, the monster opened its mouth,

and Dorothy, backing as far along the pig's back as she possibly could, almost lost her balance. Instead of a tongue or long tusks, out popped the head and shoulders of little old man, no larger than Dorothy herself. Pardon me, he murmured politely, I was looking for a sea serpent. Do I look like a sea serpent? Snorted Piggasus in a quivering voice, for he was still half-choked from shock and fright. If you and that monster you're riding are looking for a sea serpent,

go ahead, look for one, but leave honest travellers alone. Monster? exclaimed the little man in a hurt voice. Oh, I say, now you have us all wrong. This is no monster. This is the long, strong, flexible, stretchable, shooting tower of my private castle. and I myself am Bitty Bitt, the seer of some summit.

In the short silence that followed Bitty Bits' astonishing announcement, Dorothy, examining more closely the tube-like coils encircling herself and Piggises, saw that they really were of stone with rubber-like sections between. What she had taken for a mouth was really a window. With his elbow resting on the ledge, Bitty Bittie Bitt was regarding them fixedly. Well, even if you are a seer and have a shooting tower, grunted Piggas, gathering courage as he went along. There is no reason for you to come towering over us this way.

But a seer must be constantly looking for things, explained Bitty-Bit, spreading his hands expansively. That, you know, is his business. I'm always looking for something, and tonight it happens to be sea serpents. Sorry to disappoint you, said Piggasus more mildly. But since we are not sea serpents, perhaps you'll be good enough to unwind your tower.

As it happens, I have little looking to do my life. As a matter of fact, when you and your tower overtook us, I was searching for a safe place for this young princess and myself to spend the night. Look no more, begged Bitty Bit, leaning so far over the sill, Dorothy involuntarily put out her hand to save him from falling. You shall both spend the night in my castle. Come. Grasping Dorothy by one hand and Pegasus by one wing, the little seer with superhuman strength

for one so small and wrinkled, dragged them both through the open window of his shooting Tower. End of Chapter 15. Chapter 16 of the Wishing Horse of Oz by Ruth Plumley Thompson. This Librevox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Beth Thomas. Chapter 16. The Seer of Some Summit. Since coming to Oz, Dorothy had travelled in many strange ways, but to find herself shooting through the midnight sky in Bitty Bits Tower was surely the oddest of all. Both she and Pegasusers stared from the window in wide. In wide, and I'd wonder as the tower uncoiled and started shrinking rapidly backward. We may as well go home at once, observed Bitty Bitt, rubbing his little hands briskly together.

You are much more interesting than sea serpents, and I can easily look for sea serpent some other night. Now, don't be alarmed when we bump. Bump? repeated Dorothy rather nervously. Of course, the sage told her calmly. As I go forward, the tower stretches out in any direction I wish to go. When I return, it shrinks, contracts and retires within itself, like a telescope. And by the time we reach the castle, it is no larger than an ordinary tower. Hmm, better hold on to something. We're almost there.

Running around the circular room a few feet from the wall was a golden railing. Pegasus had just time to hook his wing around this railing, and Dorothy to seize it with one hand, when Bitty Bits Tower, with a resounding crash, snapped back, but up in a vertical position, so that what had been the floor of the little room became the east wall and the window a skylight. Dorothy and Pegasus, describing a complete circle on the bar, landed in a more or less upside down position on what had been the back wall. That's why I have it cushioned, explained the seer, who had also executed a neat somersault. Hopping up, as if landing on his head was a perfectly usual and ordinary occurrence,

Bitty bit opened a trap door in the floor, and motioned for Dorothy and Pegasus to follow him down a little. long winding stare. These magic contraptions will be the death of me, weased Pegasus, picking himself up with a groan. The cushioned floor had made his fall painless, but he was considerably jolted and upset from the shock, or rather the series of shocks that had so far punctuated their evening.

But if he's a seer, whispered Dorothy, recovering her basket and trotting eagerly after Bitty Bit, he ought to be able to help us a bitty bit, sniffed the pink pig. Well, if you'll just tell us, me to have bit, I'll be satisfied. And grunting and grumbling, he clumped sleepily down the stairs behind Dorothy. The room into which the stone stairway led them was evidently the cozy and comfortable study of the comical little seer. Its walls were of oak, lined from floor to ceiling with books, and all its furnishings were tan or brown. Dorothy considered this extremely

suitable, as Bitty Bitty Bit himself looked like a very wise and merry brownie. On his little round head was a round cap with a yellow quill, and he wore a brown wrinkled robe, rather like a monk's, tied tightly round the waist with a yellow cord. His bright, black, sharp little eyes danced with good humour and interest in his sun-tanned, honest little face. While Pegasur stood sleepily and somewhat disapprovingly on the hearthrug, Dorothy sank into a snug brown armchair and looked expectantly up at their singular host. No, no, not a word, begged Bitty Bitt, raising his hand pleadingly. Remember, I am the seer of some summit,

a seer who can see and foresee, a seer who can tell and foretell. Just by closing my eyes, I can tell who you are, whence you came, and whither you are going. Fancy that now, observed Pegasus in a mocking voice. You, retorted Bitty bit, pointing a skinny brown finger at the pig. You are a creation of my friend, the red gin,

whose taste for low verse I always knew, would lead him into some mischief. Low verse, retorted Piggasus indignantly, while even Dorothy looked a little shocked. Yes, low verse, insisted Bitty Bitt solemnly. You are so constructed that he who rides must rhyme and break into foolish jingles. Is this not so?

They may be jingles, but they are not low verse, protested Piggasus, flapping his ears angrily. Well then, let us call them simple verses, amended Bitty bit with a generous wave of the hand. At least, They are verses that anyone can understand, which of course makes them of no value whatever. People never appreciate what they can understand. Dorothy does, declared Pigacus, now mad enough to fly right out the window.

Dorothy, ah yes, I was coming to her. Swinging round, Bitty bit, his eyes still tightly shut, wagged his finger at the astonished girl. You are the mortal girl who came to Oz by Cyclone. You live in the Emerald City of Oz and are, Oh, tell us something we don't already know, interrupted Pegasus with a bored yorn. Where is Osmer of Oz now? How could a scallywag emperor steal her throne? Wait, wait, give me time. Not a word more. Not a word.

Panted bitty-bit, advancing with short dancing steps toward Dorothy. I see a necklace. He muttered mysteriously. One, two, three necklaces. I see a white horse and a fat, red-faced fellow wearing a small emerald crown. Great sea bass and sassafras. Oz has been conquered, its inhabitants, enchanted, its rulers banished, and the king of scampavia sits on the throne. So that's where he comes from, breathed Dorothy, forgetting Bitty Bits' request for silence. Oh, quick, tell us more, tell us more, and help us restore Osma and the other lost sovereigns to power. I am only a seer, answered the sage, opening his eyes wide and suddenly.

I can see and foresee, tell and foretell, but I cannot change that which has happened, or is about to happen. But where is Osmer? demanded Pegasus, edging closer. If you're a seer and can see her, at least you can tell us where she is. In this way, Pegasus hoped to check up on the information given them by Potaru, the Gnome King's wizard. So again, Bitty bit closed his eyes, and pressing his fingers to his forehead, spoke. Osmer, my old friend Jinnaki, the Wizard of Oz, a soldier with green whiskers,

a purple horse, two queens, two kings, a prince, the tin woodman, and Glinda the good sorceress are lying at the bottom of Lightning Lake, which is on the top of Thunder Mountain. Bitty bit told them solemnly. Lightning Lake! cried Dorothy, seizing the little seer frantically by the shoulders. Why then, they must be drowned, burned and destroyed altogether! "'No, no, they are quite calm and as usual,' Bitty Bitt assured her hastily. "'In fact, they are, I should say, in a trance of some kind. "'But what'll we do? How will we disenchat them, or find Thunder Mountain?' Losing her hold on Bitty Bitt, Dorothy spun round three times and then started firmly for the door.

"'My shooting tower will take you to Thunder Mountain, or any other place you decide you must go,' promised Bitty Bitt, hurrying anxiously after the little girl. But not tonight, Dorothy, not tonight. We are all tired, and I must have time to think. The conquering of Oz is a great shock to me. I would like time to look into the matter more fully and consider all these strange events in their proper order. This problem shall be my pillow.

I'll sleep on it, my dear, and in the morning we'll doubtless have something helpful to suggest. Well, then, where are the beds? yawned Pigasus, who heartily approved a Bitty Bitt suggestion. Or are we to sleep on our problems too? At this, Bitty Bitt, who seemed to find Pegasus terribly amusing, laughed right out loud. Then taking Dorothy's arm, he led the way to a snug little bedroom all done in yellow. Pigasus had a gentlemanly apartment in Tan next door, and both were so weary they spent little time examining their new quarters,

but instead went directly to bed and to sleep. When Dorothy wakened the next morning, she looked out the window and saw Pegasus flying in slow circles round the tidy castle. Bitty Bits Brownstone Palace, though small and unpretentious, perched right on the top of some summit. And the view was so fine and the mountain air so fresh and invigorating, Dorothy, in spite of all her anxiety and worry, began to feel happy and reckless and ready for anything. With cheerful little glances round her cosy yellow room, she dressed, brushed her hair till it shone, then skipped merrily down the brown marble steps and out into the garden. The garden, really a series of sloping terraces, was bright with hardy mountain posies,

with spicy sage bushes and gnarled old trees, which clung like acrobats to the steep rocks and dangerous crevices. Pegasus, catching a glimpse of Dorothy, seated on a smooth rock near a waterfall, came swooping down to wish her a merry morning. "'Not a bad little palace,' remarked the pig considerably. not a bad little palace at all though as far as i can see there's not a man-servant nor a woman-servant nor even a ladybug about i imagine this fellow is a hermit and from the looks of him probably lives on tobacco and snuff what do you suppose are the chances for breakfast i don't know said dorothy refusing to allow such a small matter as breakfast to dash her spirits have you seen bitty bit this morning yes sniffed piguses beginning to poke his nose hungrily round the roots of a dwarf oak. Before I flew out my window, I saw him going into his brown study. Sear goes into brown study. How's that for the first announcement of the day?

You're awful, laughed Dorothy, giving Pegasus a little push. No, just awfully hungry, grinned Pegasus. Now, I've been thinking. No. Stepping out from behind a sizable bush, Bitty bit regarded the pig with an air of assumed amazement. He says he's been thinking, he repeated, turning solemnly to Dorothy. Must be the air up here. That's about all I've had, retorted Pegasus, savagely crunching an acorn between his teeth. That and a nibble from one of your sage bushes. Sage bush, hey? Chuckled bitty bit, winking at Dorothy. That's good. We'll make a sage of you yet, a sausage. He whispered in an undertone that Pegasus heard quite distinctly. And speaking of sausage, how about breakfast?

So Bitty Bits remark about the sausage still rankled, Piggas was too hungry to let it keep him from following the sear into a small walled garden that opened out from the larger dining hall of his castle. Here, on a small table covered with a gay yellow cloth, was assembled the most appetising breakfast Dorothy had ever tasted. Ripe melon and apricots, cereal and eggs, tiny meat pies, pancakes and honey, hot rolls and steaming brown cocoa. There was a huge bowl of mush and cream for Piggas,

and another of buttermilk. and under the soothing influence of his favourite foods, Pigacus completely forgot his annoyance, and they were soon chattering away like old friends at a Sunday school picnic. Bitty Bits' chef, whom the pig had overlooked in his grand tour of the palace, served them with skill and speed. No wonder Pigasus had not seen him, for he was even smaller than his wrinkled little master,

and almost completely enveloped in a great brown linen apron and a tall brown cap. Dorothy could not possibly eat all the dainties pressed upon her by the kind, little seer and his chef, but she nibbled at each course, and when Bitty Bitt saw that neither she nor Piggasus could down another bite, he swallowed the rest of his cocoa and bounced briskly to his feet. Now, he cried, tossing away his gay napkin with a flourish. Now for the Emerald City and Oz. But I thought we were going to Thunder Mountain, exclaimed Dorothy, pushing back her chair so hurriedly she bumped her head on the wall. That, exclaimed Bitty Bittie Bitt looking over his shoulder, for he was already halfway through

the door. That will not be necessary. All we need to save the celebrities of Oz is the long-lost wishing emeralds of Lorna the Woodnymph. Lorna? coughed Pigacus rolling out of his seat and falling a bit sideways. For pretty sake, who's she? Oh, come along, urged Dorothy, and without wasting another second she pelted into the Brown Palace after Bitty Pit. With a groan, Pegasus followed, and groaned again when he realized he would have to climb three flights of marble steps and a flight of stone to reach the famous shooting tower. Then, suddenly and joyfully remembering his wings, he spread them wide. Wings, hold me up, mumbled the pink pig stuffily. We're carrying entirely too mush, mush. Rising rather uncertainly, he breathlessly flapped his

way up to the tower room, where Dorothy and Bitty Bitt impatiently awaited him. End of Chapter 16 Chapter 17 of the wishing horse of Oz by Ruth Plumley Thompson This Librevox recording is in the public domain Recording by Beth Thomas Chapter 17 Scamparoo in Oz

In the company of scraps The Scarecrow, the Royal Visitors and all the amusing members of Osmer's court The Emperor and Chalk passed a gay and hilarious morning The tabloes and pageants proceeded without a single hitch and no one seemed to miss Dorothy or Pegasus at all.

Nor did anyone notice the omission of the carefully planned groups showing the wizard's arrival in Oz, Dorothy's first visit to the Emerald City, or the victory of Nick Chopper over the wolves. These interesting and historical events might just as well never have happened. Not as circus later in the afternoon went off with a bang,

even without Pegasus to jump through hoops and fly round the ring waving flags while scraps did her balance defying acts on the trapeze and tightrope. The picnic supper was even more fun than the circus, and the fireworks set off by Tick-Tock, who was in no danger of scorching himself, were the best of all. Indeed, Scamperew's first day in the Emerald City had been so full and so interesting,

he had not made a single wish or once thought of his magic emeralds. Funny, we never had jolly times like this at home. mused Scamperew, putting out the emerald stars in the ceiling that pleasantly lighted his green apartment, and burrowing happily down into his green bed. Oh, chalk, are you asleep there, old horse? As no answer came from the other bed, Scamperew let himself sink a bit deeper into the luxurious nest of silken covers, and soon was asleep himself, puffing and whistling like a steamboat.

But the strange and frightful snoring of the emperor did not seem to stop nor scare away, the shadowy figure that presently came stealing into the royal chamber. Once, twice, three times, long, skinny fingers reached out towards the thick neck of the snoring ruler of Oz. The fourth time, there were three distinct little clits, and when the curving, talon-like claw withdrew, it had in its clutching grasp the three powerful wishing chains. Then, without waking the occupant of either bed,

the thief stole quietly into the shadows. Now the Scarecrow, delighted with the success of the celebration so far, had suggested a series of athletic contests and obstacle races for the next day, and Scampereu had heartily agreed to his plan. His first thought on waking was the race to be run by the straw man and himself, the scarecrow on the wooden saw-horse, he on his splendid white charger. I'll wear the white leather breeches and shirt, puffed Scampereux, bounding out of bed like a schoolboy.

He had taken a shower, and donned his showy riding clothes before he missed his magic emeralds. Then, all at once, as he stood before the mirror to comb his hair, he gave a loud squall of anguish. Chalk! Chalk! roared the distracted emperor, racing over to the balcony and leaning so far out over the railing, he nearly fell on his crown.

They're gone, they're gone, my emeralds, my necklaces, my necklaces, my emeralds. Now Chalk, who had risen a... early to nibble the clover while it was still fresh with morning dew, looked up in alarm. Then, as his master's voice grew louder and louder, and his gestures more spectacular and desperate, the white horse rose up on his hind legs and shook his head in violent warning and displeasure. Hush! He directed in a low voice, I'll be right up!

Making his way quickly but cautiously, so as not to arouse the curiosity of any of the palace servants, already at work in the lower hallways, Chalk hurried up to the agitated emperor. They're gone, blubbed Scamparoo, sitting on the edge of the bed and crying like a baby. Gone! Now everything is ruined and I'll have nothing left at all. Well, you still have me, murmured Chalk, resting his head affectionately on Scampereux's shoulder. Brace up, kingling, and for o' sake be quiet. No one here knows about the necklaces, and until the rascal who has stolen them learns how to use them, we are as safe as soap. That rascal, of course, is Martia. Somehow he has managed to cross the deadly desert. Yes. Chok shook his mane wrathfully.

I am convinced that Martia has the necklaces, but what good are they to him, when we alone know the secret that makes them work. He'll have to come to us in the end. And when he does, ha ha ha ha ha. Chalk expelled the air from his nose in a terrific snort. Just let me take care of him. But shouldn't we give the alarm? Have a search made for him and try to recover the emeralds?

Let him alone, counseled the wishing horse firmly. The thing for you to do is to sit tight on the throne. of Oz, remember, you are still the emperor. But how can I be without the emeralds? Scampereo dabbed at his eyes with the satin bed sheet. We got along all right yesterday, said chalk calmly. Come, cheer up, Scamper. Everything will be all right. I rather counted on beating the scarecrow in that race this morning, muttered Scampereu wistfully. How can you run as fast as that tireless wooden creature, who was magically brought to life? Well, wasn't I magically brought to life? The white horse shook his mane roguishly. Come along, king-a-ling. We'll not only win that race,

but we'll have back our necklaces and chase Martia out of Oz before we are through. I really believe you can do anything, sighed Scamparoo, getting almost cheerfully to his feet. But just the same. I shall keep you. keep a sharp lookout for Mathia. He might start a revolution. He'll revute pretty rapidly if I once get my heels on him, promised chalk with a wicked grin. Come on, heads up and who's afraid? However, in spite of the white horse's valiant attempts to comfort him, Scamparoo spent a troubled and uneasy day, casting fearful glances behind him when no one was looking, searching the happy holiday crowds with haggard glances

for a glimpse of the long, thin face of Martia the merchant. Even when Chalk beat the saw-horse in their long, exciting race through the park, and the crowds cheered themselves hoarse with delight and approval, the victory was spoiled by the knowledge that somewhere in the Emerald City lurked his most dangerous and relentless foe. Chalk, too, though he pretended to regard the matter lightly, was almost as worried as his master, and spent every free moment poking his head into doorways and peering down side streets and rearing up over walls.

And while Scamperew was having his afternoon nap, the White Horse systematically searched the palace from top to bottom, even the cellar. But in the cellar, chalk did not go quite far enough, for it was in a hollowed out chamber under the cellar that the merchant of Scampavia was really hidden. Here, with a goodly supply of food stolen from the pantry, Martia had serious, settled down to work out the problem of the emerald necklace. He had meant to conceal himself in the cellar itself, but when his foot brushed against an iron ring in the floor, he had lifted it up, and discovered, to his delight and satisfaction, this still more secluded and safe retreat. The tunnels and rocky chambers below the palace had been constructed and used by Ruggedo, the old Gnome King, when he was plotting to capture the Emerald City.

Ruggedo himself had been captured, but the underground caves and passageways had been left pretty much as they were. There were a number of chairs, a rough bed and table, and numerous candles and lamps. Altogether, it made an ideal workshop for the merchant to try out his experiments. In the cellar, he might easily have been discovered by any of the kitchen boys sent down for supplies, but in Ruggedo's old hideout, he could be sure of complete privacy. Lighting the largest of the lamps that hung on its rusty chain over the table, Martia seated himself on a rickety old chair and prepared to concentrate with all his willpower on the glittering emeralds. In the sickly green light, he made a strange and sinister figure

as he bent over the table, mumbling and chattering to himself. But after a whole day, in which he tried every known formula and combination, touching each gem in succession as he made his wish and counted to a hundred, he was still no nearer to the solution of the mystery than he had been in Scampavia. First, he had tried the diamond clasp of the third necklace, sure that that was the key to their power. But nothing at all had happened, and the trick of the magic emeralds continued to elude him.

To have in his fingers the means to immense power and good fortune, and still be unable to benefit, was so infuriating, Martia began to stamp, splutter, and beat his chest with rage and disappointment. Was it for this? He had bribed a red eagle, with the promise of three wishes to carry him across the deadly desert? Even now, the mammoth bird was waiting impatiently on the edge of a little wood near the city, ready to tear him to pieces if he failed to fulfil his part of the bargain. No daylight penetrated into the tunnel chamber, and hardly realising that it was now midnight,

Martia from sheer weariness and exasperation finally gave up and fell asleep, his head on the table, his hands still clutching the provoking chains. Footsteps pattering overhead wakened him at last, and also, told him someone had come to the cellar for supplies. Stretching wearily, he rose, and going over to the stone steps, cautiously ascended and lifted the trapdoor. Now thoroughly convinced that the necklaces would not work unless worn by someone else, he determined to seize the first person entering the cellar and compel him to help. The merchant did not have long to wait. All unconscious of the part he was to play in Martyr's dark schemes, a young kitchen boy came whistling his way

toward a great golden bin of potatoes. The bin was just beyond the trapdoor, and lowering it to a mere crack, Martia let the boy pass. Then, as he leaned down to fill his basket, the wily merchant flung up the trapdoor, fell on the boy, and carried him kicking and screaming down the stairs.

Here, with threats, promises, and innumerable shakings, he finally reduced the poor lad to a state of frightened submission. With the sparkling necklaces round his neck, he touched one and then another of the emeralds as Martia wished and countered and counted and wished. After each unsuccessful trial, the merchant would rage and stamp and shake his fists till the boy was quite convinced he was in the presence and power of a madman, and frantically waited for someone to overhear Matiya's ravings

and come down to rescue him, but nobody did. While the unfortunate kitchen boy was spending a miserable morning in the underground chamber, Scampereu and chalk were going through the motions of enjoying themselves above stairs, but without any real zest or pleasure. Only half-heartedly Scamparoo laughed at the jokes of the scarecrow. And Chalk, for all his bright interest in the long recital of Cabompo's adventures, was really in a fidget of uneasiness, trying to keep an eye on all the doors and windows in the throne room at once. Something was going to happen.

The white horse felt it in every bone. And just as the soft musical gong sounded the call for luncheon, his worst fears were realized. Suddenly, without reason or warning, the castle was plunged into total darkness. Thumps, bumps, hysterical shouts and screams followed closely on the heels of this disconcerting event. Chalk, who had been standing back of Scampereau, immediately leaned forward and grasped his impetuous little master by the seat of his royal breaches. Bouch, Dill, commanded the white horse, through his teeth and the white leather of Scamperew's riding pants, and he held on for dear life as the emperor, like all the rest of the court and guests, tried to rush in every direction.

He's done it, he's done it, and everything is ruined, wailed Scampereu, struggling in vain to pull away from Chalk. Marcia has discovered the secret of the necklaces, and now we are ruined. Do you hear, ruined? I hear, hissed Chalk, giving Scamperu a little shake. And so will everyone else, unless you shut your man. mouth. Be quiet, I tell you. Do nothing till the right moment, unless you want to dash out your brains against a pillar in the dark. To frighten to argue or struggle further, Scampereau at last

subsided. All about, courtiers, servants and guests were screaming and bumping into each other or the furniture. And when a stern hand suddenly seized his bridle, chalk trembled violently in spite of himself. Follow me? directed a firm, stern little voice. no harm will come to you. Now Chalk had been expecting to see or hear Martia, and the sound of this small, strange voice, was a welcome relief and surprise. Taking a firmer hold on Scamperew,

he thrust out his head in an endeavour to touch or feel the newcomer. As he did so, the hand on his bridle began to tug him gently but firmly forward. Look out there, mind what you were about. The Emperor of Oz is just ahead. We need chalk, now thoroughly alarmed. We are not used to taking orders from strangers. Oh, we won't be strangers long, promised the strange voice pleasantly. So this is the Emperor of Oz, and is this the way you usually carry him?

Come on, Bitty-Bit, what's the use of all this arguing? Put in another voice impatiently. Let's get out of that confusion. The Wizard's Laboratory is right across the hall. Tell him to come there. girl, decided Chalk, with another gulp of relief. Maybe we are not so badly off after all. And lifting his head, in spite of Scampereau's great weight, he spoke proudly and confidently. Whoever you are, we welcome you to Oz, and if you can explain this unearthly and unexpected

darkness, we will gladly follow you and do as you say. Good, chuckled bitty bit, tugging manfully at his bridle. This way, please. There was still so much screaming and confusion in the throne room, no one had overheard the conversation between the newcomers and the emperor's horse. And guided by the invisible hand, chalk crossed the room without bumping into anything or anybody. A moment later, they were in the quiet, dark laboratory that had once belonged to the Wizard of Oz. End of Chapter 17.

Chapter 18 of the wishing horse of Oz by Ruth Plumley Thompson. This Libravox recording is in the public domain. Read by Beth Thomas. Chapter 18. The Emperor's Horse Makes a Bargain. Bitty Bits Shooting Tower had made a record trip to the Emerald City, and guided by the little seer of some summit, had come to a deft and dexterous stop right outside the windows of the great throne room. After a short, anxious look inside, and before anyone was aware of their arrival,

Dorothy removed the lid from the box of the powder of darkness and threw a generous pinch into the air, plunging the Emerald City into an instant and thunderous dark. Under cover of this magic darkness, Dorothy, Pegasus and Bitty Bit, boldly entered the palace and singled out the white horse and his terrified master. They had fully expected some resistance.

Dorothy had brought a long piece of rope, and Pegasus carried a stout club under his wing. But they were delighted to find the Emperor too frightened and his white horse too clever to resist an invisible foe. Being able to see in the dark themselves, they had chalk and Scampereau at a decided disadvantage. Dorothy's plans, now that they had actually returned to the Emerald City, were rather vague, but Bitty Bitt knew just what he hoped and intended to do.

His searish powers had enabled him to discover that all the changes in Oz had been brought about by the magic emeralds, which in some way had fallen into Scamperew's hands. and these emeralds Bitty Bit meant to have at the earliest possible moment. So first, he ordered all the windows and doors in the laboratory closed, and then, annoyed by the screams and crashes still issuing from every room in the castle, he advised Dorothy to put the lid back on the powder of darkness. But supposing someone disturbs us before we finish,

objected Pegasus, looking doubtfully at the tremendous warhorse, who stood with feet braced and ears back, ready to listen all. defy them. Somehow Chalk had managed to toss Scampereau back into the saddle, and with both hands fixed grimly in the horse's mane, the emperor was blinking his eyes in a vain attempt to see them, or catch a glimpse of Martia, for he was convinced that the merchant was at the bottom of the whole procedure. If we agree to lift this pall of darkness, will you agree to grant us an uninterrupted hour of your time? asked Bitty Bitt, turning towards the emperor, but really addressing the horse, whom he considered the better man of the two.

I think we can without undue danger promise that, answered chalk-guardedly, while Scamperew hemmed and hoared with indecision. Of course, you must promise to use no more magic against us. Well, the same goes for you, too, remember? Put in Pegasus quickly. An hour's time and conversation, and no trickery. But who? Who are you? muttered Scamparoo, finding his voice at last.

I seem to hear three different voices. You'll soon see, answered Dorothy, clapping the lid on her powder of darkness. With a suddenness that made them all gasp, the laboratory was again flooded with the bright noon sunshine. And in a determined row before him, Scamperew saw a pretty little girl in green, a fat pink pig with white wings,

and a small wrinkled old gentleman in brown. Why? Winnie Chalk, drawing in a deep breath of relief. At first I thought you were enemy. But now I see that you are merely visitors and friends. That depends, observed Bitty Bitt, seating himself on a tall stool that brought him on a level with chalk's nose. I am the seer of some summit, but these others are Princess Dorothy and Piggasus the winged pig.

They really belong in this palace, and are close friends of the rightful ruler of this country, Osmer of Oz. I am the rightful ruler of Oz, shouted Scamperew, growing red in the face and thrusting out his three chins belligerently. Now don't bother putting on a show for me, exclaimed Bitty Bitt, waving his arms impatiently. Remember I am a seer. I know all, I see all,

and what is more, I tell all. You, my pretty fellow, are really the king of scampavia, a small no-count country on the other side of the deadly desert. In some way, the long-lost necklaces of Lorna the Woodnymph have come into your possession. With these necklaces you have enchanted the people of Oz into believing you are their ruler. You have wickedly banished Osma and her allies and counsellors,

and unlawfully made yourself Emperor of Oz. That seems to cover everything, drawled Chalk, as Scamparoo turned from red to purple. Not everything, went on Bitty-Bit, shaking his finger sternly under Chalk's nose. Kingdoms are not won and held by trickery, my friends, and we are here to see that those necklaces are returned, and the Kingdom of Oz restored to its proper rulers.

And suppose we refuse, suggested the white horse in a board voice, What then? Why then? Bitty Bitt threw back his shoulders and spun round several times on his shiny stool. Why then, it means war. Bityibit did not say who were his friends or allies

or where he should get his armies, but he spoke with such firm confidence both Scamperew and chalk were taken aback and completely dismayed. Mata had been bad enough, but this strange and determined little sea-eer, was worse. Perhaps we can make a bargain, or come to some agreement, suggested Chalk, resolved to save what he could for himself and his master. Suppose, King Scamperew and I agree

to return the emerald necklaces, which undoubtedly belong in Oz. Will you grant us the privilege of using them twice for ourselves? But, but... Scampere was about to blurt out the fact that they no longer had the necklaces, when Chalk gave him a savage nip on the the leg which silenced him effectively. Why should we do that? inquired Pigacusus, fluttering his wings nervously. After all the grief and worry you have caused us, you're lucky to get off with your skins.

Where are the necklaces now? Asked Dorothy, stepping close to Chalk and looking eagerly up into the face of the discomfited Emperor. Scamparoo's face grew long as a balloon suddenly punctured, but remembering Chalk's last bite, he managed to keep silent. When you have answered our request, we will answer yours, stated Chalk firmly but pleasantly. You can, of course, appeal to the court and members of the household, but I think you will find them entirely satisfied with their

present emperor and ready to stand by him to the last man. At Chalk's words, Bitty Bitt looked rather crestfallen. As the white horse had so quietly stated, they were perfectly powerless to take the necklaces by force. And a quick inspection of the emperor, when he first reached the palace, had convinced him Scamperew was not wearing the precious emeralds. At this rather embarrassing moment, a series of thumps, kicks and knocks on the door made not only the rescuers, but the Emperor and Chalk turn rather pale. Oh, oh, it's Martia! quivered Scamperew, whose nerves were completely shaken by the shocking disclosures of the last few moments.

Oh, oh, what do we do now? Hold your tongue, advised Chalk, and swinging round he trotted briskly over to the door. "'Who's there?' he demanded in a dignified voice. "'Tis Iva, the kitchen boy!' "'Stuttered a frightened treble. "'I must see the emperor at once.' "'Well, shall we let him in?' Bitty Bitt looked uneasily at Pegasus and Dorothy,

and then rather thoughtfully at Chalk. "'Sooge yourselves!' yawned the white horse indifferently. "'It's probably a messenger telling us the pudding is cold "'with all this delay in darkness. "'You asked for an hour's time and conversation, and we agreed to that demand. So it is for you to decide what to do, not us. Oh, let him in, fumed Piggasus,

and tell him to stop this yammering and hammering. What harm is there in a kitchen boy? So Bitty Bitt, taking the key from the lock and squinting through the keyhole to assure himself that there was only a small boy outside, quickly admitted him. Now, in-darted Iva, screaming loudly of a madman in the cellar

and bursting into a tearful and in, incoherent recital of his woes. Scarcely had he got out two sentences before Scampereau fell bodily off his horse and made a desperate snatch at the kitchen boy's throat. But Bitty Bitt was too quick for him. His eyes too had caught the glimmer of emeralds. And jerking the three chains from the lad's neck, as chalk made a savage lunge forward, he tossed them to Piggasus. Catching them on his nose as cleverly as a trained seal, the pink pig spread his wings and flew up to the top of the hall cabinet, where he sat panting and puffing with satisfaction and defiance. Come down, you fat scoundrel! roared Scamparoo, dancing up and down like a dervish,

while the poor kitchen boy, outraged by the way both Scamparoo and Bitty Bitt had rushed upon him, burst into loud sobs, and rushing out the still open door, ran crying down the corridor. Slamming the door and locking it after him, Bitty Bitt rather anxiously waited for Chalk's next move, and as usual, Chalk was quite prepared and ready to make it. Well, he observed with a jaunty flick of his tail. Now that you have the famous wishing emeralds, I suppose you are satisfied, and we may as well go. Come along, Scamperew, you will get no aware in an argument with a pig,

just casting pearls before swine, you know, and he already has our emeralds. You mean you're wishing necklaces? Shrieked Pegasus furiously, and I'll tell you what I wish. I wish that you, and your silly master, were clams at the bottom of the non-nestic ocean. Thoroughly shocked and startled by the Pink Pig's unexpected wish,

Bitty Bitt and Dorothy rushed toward the cabinet, hoping in some way to prevent the wish from taking effect. But they need not have worried, for of course nothing happened at all. Then Scamparoo, urged by chalk, hastily climbed into the saddle. Well, we need the white horse twitching his ears provokingly. Goodbye to you. Goodbye. We'll just be trotting along. Wait, look here, hold on a bit.

The little seer of some summit stepped angrily in front of the white horse. How do these emeralds work? How are we to disenchant the rulers of Oz and restore Osma to the throne unless we know the proper way to use these magic chains? I'm afraid that's your problem. Side chalk rolling his eyes round at Scamperew. Come now, my little mannequin, open up the door. We kept our promise, and you must keep yours.

After all, my master has done no real harm here. There has been no war or war. bloodshed. In fact, everything has been decidedly gay and jolly. If his laudable ambition to better himself brought Osma and her counsellors a little well-earned rest, at least they have suffered no pain or unpleasantness, and are perfectly unaware of what has happened to them. Open the door, I tell you, or I'll call for help, and there are many in this palace who would gladly come to our assistance. Oh, oh, what shall we do? Well, Dorothy, as Bitty Bitt stood uncertainly with his back to the door.

You're the horridest horse I've ever known. Well, that's all in the way you look at me, answered Chalk, staring steadily into Dorothy's eyes. You, my dear, are fond of your mistress, Queen Osmer of Oz, and are trying to help her. I, on my part, am exceedingly fond of my master, the king of Scampavia, and am trying to help him. You can't blame me for that, you know. The creature is right.

side Bitty Bitt, and we'll have to agree to his plans, preposterous though they are. That would of course be the sensible thing to do, murmured Chalk, lowering his eyes modestly. You grant me two wishes, and I will tell you the proper way to use the magic wishing chains. But suppose they are bad wishes. I mean, Bitty Bitt corrected himself hastily. Good for you, but bad for us, what then? With the necklaces in your possession, you could wish yourselves away in an instant. That, admitted Chalk, is perfectly true, but I'm afraid you will have to take that chance, and trust me. Never do it, never do it, squealed Pigacus, who now had the necklaces tucked tightly under his wing. We might as well throw ourselves out the window.

But Bitty Bitt, closing his eyes and pressing his fingers close to his forehead, made no reply. I'll trust you, he said after a short silence, and opening his eyes he looked cheerfully up at the white horse. Hand down those necklaces, Piggasus, and be quick about it too, I hear footsteps in the passageway. Well, don't blame me if we're turned to pretzels and pump a nickel, grunted the pig, dropping the necklaces into the sears outstretched hand. Goodbye all. Turning his back in disgust and covering his ears with his wings, Piggasus waited in fear and trembling for the end. But Bitty-Bit quite calmly handed the emeralds to Scampereau, and Scamperew immediately draped them over Chalk's left ear. Now then, murmured Chalk, looking firmly back at the unhappy Emperor.

Repeat exactly what I say, and all will yet be well. I wish, began Chalk, while Scamparoo listened with bulging eyes. I wish that the five wishes I make when we return to scampavia shall be instantly granted. As Scamproo repeated the wish and slowly started to count to a hundred, Dorothy fidgeted with uneasiness, and Pegasus fairly groaned with alarm, for it seemed to them both that their danger had only been postponed and not averted. My second wish I will keep for our return, decided Chalk. Now, my dear, attend closely. Since you are an avowed friend of Osma and live with her in this palace,

it seems to me you are the one to keep safely the secret of the magic emeralds. Moving close to Dorothy, Chalk put his son. soft pink nose close to her ear and whispered several very hoarse sentences. Get it? Get it? Backing away exuberantly. Oh, is that all? Dorothy pushed back her hair in surprise and bewilderment.

Why, anyone could do that. Then prove it by sending us back to scampavia. Beamed chalk, shaking his mane approvingly. It would be embarrassing for us to be here when Osmer and her friends return. Here, my child, take the necklaces, and I'll do the wishing. Piggises, now more interested than frightened, tried his best to see what Dorothy did

after she clasped the emeralds around her neck, and the white horse solemnly wished himself and Scamparoo back in Scampavia. But before Chalk reached ten in his counting, there was a whiff and a puff, and except for a slight rustle in the air, no sign at all of the splendid white steed and his red-faced master. It works, it works! Exalted bitty-bit, hopping about like a brownie,

Can you do it again, my dear? All we need to do is to wish that the people of Oz shall be released from this wicked spell of forgetting, and then wish Osma and all the others safely back to the palace. Don't forget, hi boy, cried Pegasus, switching his little tail violently. He's gone too, you know, and don't forget Ginnyky, and old Willie Green whiskers. I'll remember, promised Bitty Bitt. Already, Dorothy? The little girl nodded, and Bitty Bitt, looking and feeling more serious and important

than he had ever felt in his whole life, slowly made the wish that was to restore peace and happiness to Oz. I wish, said the little sage sternly, that the wicked enchantment cast by Scampereau upon the inhabitants of Oz be instantly dispelled. I wish that Osma herself, the Wizard of Oz, the Red Gin of Ev, the king and queen of the munchkins and their son, Prince Philidor,

the king and queen of the Gillikins and their giant horse, Glinda the Good Sorceress of the South, Nick Chopper, the Tin Emperor of the East, and the soldier with the green whiskers, be immediately released from Thunder Mountain and restored to this palace. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. At seven, Pegasus with a loud squall of astonishment, fell from the top of the cabinet, and Dorothy rushed joyfully forward. For now every chair around the wizard's table was occupied.

At the head sat Osmer, calm and gracious as ever, at the foot, the spry little wizard, and between all the others who had so recently lain at the bottom of Lightning Lake. Highboy stood over by the window, looking dreamily out across the garden, and none of them seemed in the least surprised or excited to find themselves in the wizard's laboratory. Let me see, mused Osma, raising her hand gravely. Ah yes, we are here to discuss a threatened danger to ourselves and the Kingdom of Oz. But it's all over now, cried Dorothy, running over time. Osma and flinging both arms around her waist.

It's all over, and we're safe, and you're safe, and, my, how glad we are to have you back here again. Here? exclaimed the wizard, popping up like a startled jack in the box. Where else would we be? Only at the bottom of lightning lake and thunder mountain, murmured Bitty Bitt, coming modestly forward to meet the fairy ruler of Oz, and winking merrily at Jinnaki, whom he already knew.

End of Chapter 18. Chapter 19 of the Wishing Horse of Oz by Ruth Plumley Thompson This Libra Box recording is in the public domain Read by Beth Thomas Chapter 19 The Story of the Necklaces Osmer's surprise and the astonishment of all the rest of that company around the wizard's table can well be imagined I didn't hear any thunder

snorted Highboy lowering himself down to Bitty Bits level Not a clap And if we were at the bottom of Lightning Lake, what did we eat? We didn't, announced Genickey in a hollow voice. What could we have eaten in such a place, you old fiery to you? To have been enchanted and put out of existence for three whole days was an amazing experience, and as Dorothy and Bitty Bitt, helped out now and then by Piggas, explained all that had happened to the victims of Scampereu's ambition

and to themselves in the course of their journey of rescue, Osma's face grew both grave and serious. It was disturbing to realize how easily Oz had been captured, and the powerful wizards and Glinda the sorceress pushed aside. The wizard of Oz himself seemed to feel the most discouraged and downcast of all, to think he had been so easily overcome, and that his magic had not been strong enough to withstand the wicked spell of the invaders. I should have foreseen something like this and been prepared,

"'Mond the little man, mopping his head with a map of Oz which he happened to have in his pocket.' "'Yes,' sighed the tin woodman, feeling his joints anxiously to see whether they had been rusted by his three-day immersion in Lightning Lake. "'We might have been prisoners in Thunder Mountain forever, had it not been for Dorothy and Pegasus and this sagacious little sear. "'But tell me, Dorothy, how was it that you alone, of all the people in the palace, remembered and missed us?' "'Well,' confessed Dorothy, seating herself cautiously on Nick Chopper's tin knees, "'It must have been the wizard's wishing pill. You see, just as the soldier's beard turned red, "'I found one in my pocket, and popping it in my mouth, wished that I might save Oz "'from any danger that threatened. It kept me from forgetting Osma and all of you,

"'and when I sat on Pigas's back, he remembered too, and we—' "'Did save Oz!' finished the little wizard, bounding triumphantly to his feet, and restored to instant cheerfulness by Dorothy's generous statement. I'd tell you, I'll match my wishing powers with any wishing powers in the country. But you won't have to now, smiled Bitty Bitt with an envious glance at the sparkling necklaces Dorothy had placed on the table before Osmer. With these emerald and your own magic powers, nothing like this could ever happen in Oz again.

Thank you Bitty Bitt, smiled the little Queen nodding graciously. Thank you a hundred times for all you have done for us. and for Oz. And perhaps, if we coaxed, you might remain as our royal seer. Here, here, our royal seer, cried Pigasus clapping his wings. Will you be it? So bitty bit? Well, acknowledged Bitty Bitt with a low bow towards Osma. I'm tempted to accept, but on the other hand, I am so foolishly fond of my own castle, I just could not be content in any other place. But if your majesty ever needs me for serious business, you can always command my services, by using either the wishing necklaces or your magic belt.

And he'll come like a shot in his shooting tower. Dorothy smiled as she slid carefully from Nick Chopper's knee. But say, what's that? A hundred footsteps sounded in the corridor, accompanied by confused voices, questioning calls, and finally loud thumps on the door. It must be all the rest of the courtiers and visitors, remembering they have a queen.

Oh, I hear scraps and the scarecrow, squealed Piggasus. I hear Betsy Bobbin and Trot, quick Dorothy, open the door. No, not yet, said Osmer gently but firmly. There is more, much more for us to hear and settle. But you go out, Pegasus, and tell them all about our enchantment, Scamparoos reign and our rescue. Be glad to, charmed, and trust me to do it right.

Swelling up with importance and pride, Pigasus flew out the window before Dorothy had time to open the door. A few moments later, the company, in the wizard's laboratory, heard him calling everyone to follow him to the throne room, and hear the most startling news since Dorothy killed the wicked witches of the East and West. And how he'll love telling it, said Bitty Bitt, smiling across at the Wizard of Ev. A great idea of yours, this pig, Ginny, even if his verses are low, I like him. Oh, everyone likes Pegasus, declared Dorothy, coming over to sit on the arm of Glinda's chair.

But what I'd like to know is how that kitchen boy has. happened to have the emeralds, how Scampereau got them, and where they came from in the first place. Yes, murmured Glinda, who like the wizard, felt very much annoyed to have been overpowered by a fat, unimportant monarch like Scampereau. Now that we have these wishing chains, we must guard them carefully, to keep them from falling into such mischievous hands again. I believe Bitty Bitt can tell us the story of the emeralds, said Osmer, who had been much

impressed by the cheerful little seer of some summit. With his gift of foreseeing and foretelling, he probably knows the whole story. Can he look backward as well as forward? inquired the wizard challengingly. Just as well, confessed Bitty Bitt with an embarrassed little cough, and as every head turned expectantly toward him, the sage closed his eyes and quietly told them the interesting history of Mata's three necklaces. These magic emeralds, began Bitty Bitt,

waving his hands rhythmically backward and forward, were first collected and strung into necklaces by a wizard named Wombe for the King of the Green Mountain as a gift for the wood-nymph Lorna. But the King of the Green Mountain was an ugly little dwarf, and though she had promised to marry him, no sooner did Lorna have the necklaces, then she turned the king into a frog and hid herself away in her own forest. In the giant hollow tree where Lorna lived,

there was a mischievous family of squirrels. That night, as Lorna lay sleeping with the emeralds on a little golden plate beside her, one of the squirrels, thinking the gems some new and delicious kind of nuts, stole and buried them away for the winter. Next morning, though Lorna ran crying and searching all through the forest, she was unable to find her wishing necklaces. Then what became of them? gasped Dorothy, as bitty-bit, opening his eyes for a moment, blinked cheerfully over their heads. Wait, I'll tell you. Closing his eyes, the sage went hurriedly on with the story. Ah, so this is it. A woodcutter's boy poking about among the leaves found the emeralds,

and as emeralds in themselves are not uncommon in Oz, he traded them to a peddler for a new axe. The peddler, arriving after a long while in Scampavia, had no trouble in disposing of the jewels. In Scampavia, you must know, emeralds, pearls, or jewels of any kind are practically unknown, and a merchant gave the peddler not only his house and shop, but all of his merchandise for the three sparkling chains.

By a law in Scampavia, every subject must render to the king one third of all he owns or razors, and in due course one of the necklaces was sent to Scamperew. The king, delighted with the sparkling gems, insisted on having all three necklaces, and Martia himself brought them to the castle, determined if possible, to steal them back at the first opportunity. In order to do so without arousing the suspicions of the king, he pretends to be a wizard, and tells him if he, Martia, wears the three necklaces, he can grant any wish the king may make. But that as he makes the wish, he must close his eyes and count to a hundred. As soon as Scampereau began to count, Martia started to run off with the emeralds,

and that accounts for the white horse, for you see, Scamparoo's first wish was for a splendid white charger with a golden mane and tail. Frightened almost out of his senses by the sudden appearance of the horse, and the knowledge that the chains really did have some magic power, Martia steals back beside the king, resolved to wait for another opportunity to procure the necklaces. Meanwhile, Scampereu, excited and happy over the granting of his first wish, confides in the merchant his second wish and ambition, to be a ruler of Oz.

Martia, to gain time in which he can work out the secret of the emerald's power, approves of the king's idea, but tells him he can only grant one wish a week. He then advises Scamperew to cause all the people in Oz to forget their former rulers and to remove the wizard and all his magic, Osmer and the rulers of the four Oz countries to the inaccessible caverns of Thunder Mountain. Now, while Martia is trying his best to discover the trick of the magic emeralds, Scampereu, growing tired of the temporary fellow, appealed to his horse.

The horse being magically brought to life, and being unusually sharp-witted and quick, soon worked out the problem. With his help, Scamperew wished the spell of forgetting upon Osma's subjects, banished her highness and all of the others, just as Martia had suggested, and managed to rule Oz for three whole days. But what became of Martia? asked Glinda, leaning forward eagerly. At this moment, Martia is lying in a senseless condition in the underground chamber beneath this castle, Bitty Bitt told them solemnly and without opening his eyes. Soon after Scamperew left for Oz, the merchant was driven out of Scampavia by Piny Penny, whom Scampereu had made king.

Martia, furious to think the apparently stupid sovereign had outwitted him, bribed an eagle to carry him across the desert, arrived at the Emerald City, and soon afterward managed to really steal the necklaces from Scampereu. Discovering beneath the cellar the excavated chambers of the old Gnome King, he retired to this quiet spot to again experiment with the emeralds. Needing another person to help, he seized the kitchen boy, who had come to the cellar for supplies, and forced him to assist in his experiments. How soon he might have discovered the real trick of the chains, I cannot say,

but our own arrival, and Glomer's powder of darkness, happily interrupted him. The kitchen boy, who had kept his eyes glued to the stone steps and trapdoor during the entire morning, made an immediate dash for freedom, and managed to escape in spite of the darkness. Martia, not so fortunate, rushed into a stone pillar. and knocked himself senseless. He's still lying there, and I suggest your majesty deal with him at once. I will, decided Osma firmly, as Bitty Bitt opened his eyes and looked cheerfully round the table. And I'll do it by means of these very magic emeralds.

Put on the emeralds, Dorothy, for you alone know the secret of their magic power. So Dorothy, anxious to have Martia out of Oz before he recovered his wicked wits, hastily clasped the three chains round her slim throat. It is my earnest wish that Martia shall immediately and henceforth forget the emerald necklaces of Oz, return to his country, and become a good and simple citizen of scampavia, said Osma seriously, beginning her count to 100. He's gone, he's gone, piped up bitty bit, who had closed his eyes as soon as Osmer had started to speak.

And if I were you, my dear, I would send off that red eagle too. I see him lurking on the edge of our city with an exceedingly fierce light in his eye. So Osma made another wish, turning the eagle to a harmless sparrow. And what about Scamporoo? asked Chirio Bed, King of the Munchkins, who up to this time had not spoken a word. Should he not be punished in some way? I would not bother with old Scamper, advised Pity Bitt with a small chuckle. Before I agreed to give his white horse those five wishes, I closed my eyes and looked ahead, and discovered that they would all be good wishes, not only good but wise, and from now on I think you can trust that clever white horse,

and a little fellow called Pinypenny, to keep their master out of mischief and Oz. Well, in that case, sighed Osma, rather breathless from so much counting. Everything is happily settled. And in that case, boomed Joe King, gallantly helping his little queen to her feet, I suggest we start celebrating all over again, not only the discovery of Oswald, Oz by mortals, but the saving of Oz as well. I, for one, feel terribly cheated at missing Notter's circus. So do I, so do I! exclaimed little Prince Philidor, climbing boisterously into Highboy Saddle.

I want to see a circus! And so you shall, promised Osmer gaily. We will start the celebration at exactly the point where we left Oz for Thunder Mountain and have the tabloos, the pageants and the picnics all over again. And that, my dear, is exactly what they did do, and everyone, including Bitty Bid, enjoyed himself so much there was not an unhappy person in the Emerald City. And not until the end of the second day, did Dorothy remember to tell Osma the magic secret of the wishing emeralds.

On the sixth count, you wink both eyes, whispered Dorothy, giving Osma a little hug. Good night. Good gracious, so that's it! smiled Osma, comprehending instantly what Dorothy meant. I suppose Martia did it in sheer excitement the first time. Well, I have often heard of doing things in the twinkling of an eye, but now we shall really be able to have them that way. No one knows this secret but you and me and a white horse,

and no one must ever know it, for wishes are dangerous and cause more unhappiness than joy, so we'll never tell another soul, will we Dorothy? Never, agreed the little girl, looking solemnly over her shoulder at the safe where Osma had hidden her new treasure. End of Chapter 19. Chapter 20 of the Wishing Horse of Oz by Ruth Plumley Thompson. This Libra Rock's recording is in the public domain.

Read by Beth Thomas. Chapter 20. Back in Scampavia. So there you are. Piny Penny straightened up with a little grimace, for he had been planting flowers in a new rock garden he was planning for the king. With an expression about equally compounded of exasperation and affection, he looked at his former master and the white horse, who had, without sound or warning, dropped down in the path before him. I thought you'd come back, continued Piny Penny, calmly rubbing the mud from his fingers and putting out his hand. So it was your horse, after all. His gaze rested speculatively on the splendid white steed and the richly jewelled robes of Scamperew.

And you've made your fortune, I see. Well, welcome home anyway. Your crown's hanging on a nail back of the throne, and I think you'll find everything in order. In order? Why, it looks wonderful! shouted Scamperew, leaping exuberantly out of the saddle, and honestly surprised and pleased at the pleasure he felt in seeing old Piny-Penny again.

You've had the palace painted, and this garden and that fountain and the flowers! They're all new, aren't they? Yes, agreed Piny-Penny-Garters. I made a few new laws while you were gone, Scamper, making the tax only one twentieth of our subjects' earnings. They were so grateful and delighted they've been sending you presents ever since. Then the guards, having no drill or marching to bother them, I did away with that too, the guards in their odd time agreed to work around the castle, and we've been brightening

up the old place quite a bit. I tell you, Pinypenny exhaled his breath noisily. We'll make a going and coming country of this yet. Of course we will, said Scamparoo, bouncing happily along at his side. I've had a lot of experience since I saw you old skinny pins. Oh, Piny, my boy, I've been an emperor in Oz. Oz? Oz, never. Closing his lips into a thin line, Piny Pony Pony looked from his master to chalk,

who was stepping sedately along on his other side. But it's perfectly true. We need the white horse, prancing a bit from sheer enjoyment. And now we are hopeful. with five splendid wishes. Wishes? Sniffed Piny Penny, rearing his head suspiciously. What good are wishes? But these wishes really work and come true,

explained Chalk with a toss of his head. And, once more, they are going to work and come true for scampavia. Any wish you work hard enough for will come true, insisted Piny Penny stubbornly. Wishes, puss! Wishes, pugh! Wishes, pah! If wishes were horses, beggars would ride. Finish the little Prime Minister, half under his breath. But don't you see?

Scamparoo grasped pinny penny firmly by the shoulders. This is one time when wishes were horses, and beggars did ride. My first wish was for a horse, and here he is, as true as you are and as wise and clever. Why, even if the magic emeralds give me nothing more, I'm still the luckiest fellow on this side of the deadly desert. "'Moon, stars and rainbows. "'I believe you have gotten some sense,' "'gast Piny Penny, staring with wide eyes into Scamperew's face.

"'And that's the first good I ever knew to come of magic.' "'Pulling Penny Penny down to his old bench, now neatly mended and painted green, "'the King of Scampavia told his little Prime Minister the whole story I have just been telling you. "'When he finished and settled back complacently, "'Pinny Penny, instead of looking glad or pleased, stared mournfully at the ground. Now what's the matter? Demanded Scamparoo, clapping him impatiently on the back, while chalk, breaking off a little branch with his teeth,

tickled Piny-Penny-Penny mischievously under the chin. Why are you so sad and solemn? Because Piny-Penny ground the toe of his boot deeply into the gravel in the path. If you really have five more magic wishes, you'll probably be going to some grand other place and be spending the rest of your life in travel. If that was so, we would.

wouldn't be here at all, puffed Scampereau. Now get this through your head, old fellow. We're here by our own wish, and from now on, my own country is good enough for me, and when we've made these five good wishes, good enough for anybody. There you go, there you go, groaned Piny-Penny, covering his face with his hands. It's the wishes I'm afraid of. Well, you needn't be. With a great effort, Scampereau made his first really great and wise decision. You shall make the wishes yourself, Piny-Penny, and I shall save only one in case of trouble. Bravo, bravo, snorted Chalk, prancing three times around the green bench. Me? You really mean me? Quavered Piny-Penny, pointing an unbelieving finger at his own midsection.

Then a scamperoo nodded, and before he could change his mind, the old Chancellor fairly leapt into the air. I wish the king of this country to always be as wise and generous, as he has succeeded in being at this moment, as wise as the young fairy ruler of Oz, panted Piny Penny. I wish that the people of Scampavia, using the powers and abilities they already have, shall make this a rich, happy and prosperous kingdom. I wish that the climate and soil, the only bad features about which we might complain, shall become mild and fertile.

That's all, that's all I can think of, confessed Piny Penny, shrinking happily back on the bench. Then I'll make a wish. We need chalk, shaking his beautiful golden mane. I wish that we three may never be separated. Long live the king and his prime minister. And his horse, cried Scamparoo, bounding up to seize Chalk's bridle. And his horse, echoed Piny Penny heartily,

running round to seize Chalk's Bridal on the other side. We three for Scampavia forever. Then, with Chalk stepping proudly in the centre, these three strangely assorted comrades made their way into the palace. Knowing the power of the magic emeralds and also the magic power of knowledge and experience, I am sure that Scampavia, under its new regime, will soon be as happy and prosperous as any nation in Oz. End of Chapter 20. End of the Wishing Horse of Oz by Ruth Plumley Thompson.