The Emerald City of Oz, Lyman Frank Baum [classic books for 7th graders TXT] 📗

the genuine article,” agreed his Majesty. “But look at me now! I live in a marble palace instead of a hole in the ground. I have all I want to eat, without the joy of hunting for it. Every day I must dress in fine clothes and wear that horrible crown till it makes my head ache. Rabbits come to me with all sorts of troubles, when my own troubles are the only ones I care about. When I walk out I can’t hop and run; I must strut on my rear legs and wear an ermine robe! And the soldiers salute me and the band plays and the other rabbits laugh and clap their paws and cry out: ‘Hail to the King!’ Now let me ask you, as a friend and a young lady of good judgment: isn’t all this pomp and foolishness enough to make a decent rabbit miserable?”

“Once,” said Dorothy, reflectively, “men were wild and unclothed and lived in caves and hunted for food as wild beasts do. But they got civ’lized, in time, and now they’d hate to go back to the old days.”

“That is an entirely different case,” replied the King. “None of you Humans were civilized in one lifetime. It came to you by degrees. But I have known the forest and the free life, and that is why I resent being civilized all at once, against my will, and being made a King with a crown and an ermine robe. Pah!”

“If you don’t like it, why don’t you resign?” she asked.

“Impossible!” wailed the Rabbit, wiping his eyes again with his handkerchief. “There’s a beastly law in this town that forbids it. When one is elected a King, there’s no getting out of it.”

“Who made the laws?” inquired Dorothy.

“The same Sorceress who made the town—Glinda the Good. She built the wall, and fixed up the City, and gave us several valuable enchantments, and made the laws. Then she invited all the pink-eyed white rabbits of the forest to come here, after which she left us to our fate.”

“What made you ‘cept the invitation, and come here?” asked the child.

“I didn’t know how dreadful city life was, and I’d no idea I would be elected King,” said he, sobbing bitterly. “And—and—now I’m It—with a capital I—and can’t escape!”

“I know Glinda,” remarked Dorothy, eating for dessert a dish of charlotte russe, “and when I see her again, I’ll ask her to put another King in your place.”

“Will you? Will you, indeed?” asked the King, joyfully.

“I will if you want me to,” she replied.

“Hurroo—huray!” shouted the King; and then he jumped up from the table and danced wildly about the room, waving his napkin like a flag and laughing with glee.

After a time he managed to control his delight and returned to the table.

“When are you likely to see Glinda?” he inquired.

“Oh, p’raps in a few days,” said Dorothy.

“And you won’t forget to ask her?”

“Of course not.”

“Princess,” said the Rabbit King, earnestly, “you have relieved me of a great unhappiness, and I am very grateful. Therefore I propose to entertain you, since you are my guest and I am the King, as a slight mark of my appreciation. Come with me to my reception hall.”

He then summoned Bristle and said to him: “Assemble all the nobility in the great reception hall, and also tell Blinkem that I want him immediately.”

The Keeper of the Wicket bowed and hurried away, and his Majesty turned to Dorothy and continued: “We’ll have time for a walk in the gardens before the people get here.”

The gardens were back of the palace and were filled with beautiful flowers and fragrant shrubs, with many shade and fruit trees and marble-paved walks running in every direction. As they entered this place Blinkem came running to the King, who gave him several orders in a low voice. Then his Majesty rejoined Dorothy and led her through the gardens, which she admired very much.

“What lovely clothes your Majesty wears!” she said, glancing at the rich blue satin costume, embroidered, with pearls in which the King was dressed.

“Yes,” he returned, with an air of pride, “this is one of my favorite suits; but I have a good many that are even more elaborate. We have excellent tailors in Bunnybury, and Glinda supplies all the material. By the way, you might ask the Sorceress, when you see her, to permit me to keep my wardrobe.”

“But if you go back to the forest you will not need clothes,” she said.

“N—o!” he faltered; “that may be so. But I’ve dressed up so long that I’m used to it, and I don’t imagine I’d care to run around naked again. So perhaps the Good Glinda will let me keep the costumes.”

“I’ll ask her,” agreed Dorothy.

Then they left the gardens and went into a fine, big reception hall, where rich rugs were spread upon the tiled floors and the furniture was exquisitely carved and studded with jewels. The King’s chair was an especially pretty piece of furniture, being in the shape of a silver lily with one leaf bent over to form the seat. The silver was everywhere thickly encrusted with diamonds and the seat was upholstered in white satin.

“Oh, what a splendid chair!” cried Dorothy, clasping her hands admiringly.

“Isn’t it?” answered the King, proudly. “It is my favorite seat, and I think it especially becoming to my complexion. While I think of it, I wish you’d ask Glinda to let me keep this lily chair when I go away.”

“It wouldn’t look very well in a hole in the ground, would it?” she suggested.

“Maybe not; but I’m used to sitting in it and I’d like to take it with me,” he answered. “But here come the ladies and gentlemen of the court; so please sit beside me and be presented.”

21. How the King Changed His Mind

Just then a rabbit band of nearly fifty pieces marched in, playing upon golden instruments and dressed in neat uniforms. Following the band came the nobility of Bunnybury, all richly dressed and hopping along on their rear legs. Both the ladies and the gentlemen wore white gloves upon their paws, with their rings on the outside of the gloves, as this seemed to be the fashion here. Some of the lady rabbits carried lorgnettes, while many of the gentlemen rabbits wore monocles in their left eyes.

The courtiers and their ladies paraded past the King, who introduced Princess Dorothy to each couple in a very graceful manner. Then the company seated themselves in chairs and on sofas and looked expectantly at their monarch.

“It is our royal duty, as well as our royal pleasure,” he said, “to provide fitting entertainment for our distinguished guest. We will now present the Royal Band of Whiskered Friskers.”

As he spoke the musicians, who had arranged themselves in a corner, struck up a dance melody while into the room pranced the Whiskered Friskers. They were eight pretty rabbits dressed only in gauzy purple skirts fastened around their waists with diamond bands. Their whiskers were colored a rich purple, but otherwise they were pure white.

After bowing before the King and Dorothy the Friskers began their pranks, and these were so comical that Dorothy laughed with real enjoyment. They not only danced together, whirling and gyrating around the room, but they leaped over one another, stood upon their heads and hopped and skipped here and there so nimbly that it was hard work to keep track of them. Finally, they all made double somersaults and turned handsprings out of the room.

The nobility enthusiastically applauded, and Dorothy applauded with them.

“They’re fine!” she said to the King.

“Yes, the Whiskered Friskers are really very clever,” he replied. “I shall hate to part with them when I go away, for they have often amused me when I was very miserable. I wonder if you would ask Glinda—”

“No, it wouldn’t do at all,” declared Dorothy, positively. “There wouldn’t be room in your hole in the ground for so many rabbits, ‘spec’ly when you get the lily chair and your clothes there. Don’t think of such a thing, your Majesty.”

The King sighed. Then he stood up and announced to the company:

“We will now hold a military drill by my picked Bodyguard of Royal Pikemen.”

Now the band played a march and a company of rabbit soldiers came in. They wore green and gold uniforms and marched very stiffly but in perfect time. Their spears, or pikes, had slender shafts of polished silver with golden heads, and during the drill they handled these weapons with wonderful dexterity.

“I should think you’d feel pretty safe with such a fine Bodyguard,” remarked Dorothy.

“I do,” said the King. “They protect me from every harm. I suppose Glinda wouldn’t—”

“No,” interrupted the girl; “I’m sure she wouldn’t. It’s the King’s own Bodyguard, and when you are no longer King you can’t have ‘em.”

The King did not reply, but he looked rather sorrowful for a time.

When the soldiers had marched out he said to the company:

“The Royal Jugglers will now appear.”

Dorothy had seen many jugglers in her lifetime, but never any so interesting as these. There were six of them, dressed in black satin embroidered with queer symbols in silver—a costume which contrasted strongly with their snow-white fur.

First, they pushed in a big red ball and three of the rabbit jugglers stood upon its top and made it roll. Then two of them caught up a third and tossed him into the air, all vanishing, until only the two were left. Then one of these tossed the other upward and remained alone of all his fellows. This last juggler now touched the red ball, which fell apart, being hollow, and the five rabbits who had disappeared in the air scrambled out of the hollow ball.

Next they all clung together and rolled swiftly upon the floor. When they came to a stop only one fat rabbit juggler was seen, the others seeming to be inside him. This one leaped lightly into the air and when he came down he exploded and separated into the original six. Then four of them rolled themselves into round balls and the other two tossed them around and played ball with them.

These were but a few of the tricks the rabbit jugglers performed, and they were so skillful that all the nobility and even the King applauded as loudly as did Dorothy.

“I suppose there are no rabbit jugglers in all the world to compare with these,” remarked the King. “And since I may not have the Whiskers Friskers or my Bodyguard, you might ask Glinda to let me take away just two or three of these jugglers. Will you?”

“I’ll ask her,” replied Dorothy, doubtfully.

“Thank you,” said the King; “thank you very much. And now you shall listen to the Winsome Waggish Warblers, who have often cheered me in my moments of anguish.”

The Winsome Waggish Warblers proved to be a quartette of rabbit singers, two gentlemen and two lady rabbits. The gentlemen Warblers wore full-dress swallow-tailed suits of white satin, with pearls for buttons, while the lady Warblers were gowned in white satin dresses with long trails.

The first song they sang began in this way:

 

“When a rabbit gets a habit Of living in a city And wearing clothes and furbelows And jewels rare and pretty, He scorns the Bun who has to run And burrow in the ground And pities those whose watchful foes Are man and gun and hound.”

 

Dorothy looked at the King when she heard this song and noticed that he seemed disturbed and ill at ease.

“I don’t like that song,” he said to the Warblers. “Give us something jolly and rollicking.”