Dorothy and her fellow travelers
rode away from the Cuttenclip
village and followed the indistinct
path as far as the sign-post.
Here they took the main road
again and proceeded pleasantly
through the pretty farming country.
When evening came they stopped
at a dwelling and were joyfully
welcomed and given plenty to
eat and good beds for the night.
Early next morning, however,
they were up and eager to start,
and after a good breakfast they
bade their host good-bye and
climbed into the red wagon, to
which the Sawhorse had been hitched
all night. Being made of wood,
this horse never got tired nor
cared to lie down. Dorothy was
not quite sure whether he ever
slept or not, but it was certain
that he never did when anybody
was around.
The weather is always beautiful
in Oz, and this morning the air
was cool and refreshing and the
sunshine brilliant and delightful.
In about an hour they came
to a place where another road
branched off. There was a sign-post
here which read:
THIS WAY TO FUDDLECUMJIG
"Oh, here is where we turn," said
Dorothy, observing the sign.
"What! Are we going to Fuddlecumjig?" asked
the Captain General.
"Yes; Ozma thought we might
enjoy the Fuddles. They are said
to be very interesting," she
replied.
"No one would suspect it from
their name," said Aunt Em. "Who
are they, anyhow? More paper
things?"
"I think not," answered Dorothy,
laughing; "but I can't say 'zactly,
Aunt Em, what they are. We'll
find out when we get there."
"Perhaps the Wizard knows," suggested
Uncle Henry.
"No; I've never been there
before," said the Wizard. "But
I've often heard of Fuddlecumjig
and the Fuddles, who are said
to be the most peculiar people
in all the Land of Oz."
"In what way?" asked
the Shaggy Man.
"I don't know, I'm sure," said
the Wizard.
Just then, as they rode along
the pretty green lane toward
Fuddlecumjig, they espied a kangaroo
sitting by the roadside. The
poor animal had its face covered
with both its front paws and
was crying so bitterly that the
tears coursed down its cheeks
in two tiny streams and trickled
across the road, where they formed
a pool in a small hollow.
The Sawhorse stopped short
at this pitiful sight, and Dorothy
cried out, with ready sympathy:
"What's the
matter, Kangaroo?"
"Boo-hoo! Boo-hoo!" wailed
the Kangaroo; "I've lost my mi--mi--mi--Oh,
boo-hoo! Boo-hoo!"--
"Poor thing," said the Wizard, "she's
lost her mister. It's probably
her husband, and he's dead."
"No, no, no!" sobbed the kangaroo. "It--it
isn't that. I've lost my mi--mi--Oh,
boo, boo-hoo!"
"I know," said the Shaggy Man; "she's
lost her mirror."
"No; it's my mi--mi--mi--Boo-hoo!
My mi--Oh, Boo-hoo!" and the
kangaroo cried harder than ever.
"It must be her mince-pie," suggested
Aunt Em.
"Or her milk-toast," proposed
Uncle Henry.
"I've lost my mi--mi--mittens!" said
the kangaroo, getting it out
at last.
"Oh!" cried the Yellow Hen,
with a cackle of relief. "Why
didn't you say so before?"
"Boo-hoo! I--I--couldn't," answered
the kangaroo.
"But, see here," said Dorothy, "you
don't need mittens in this warm
weather."
"Yes, indeed I do," replied
the animal, stopping her sobs
and removing her paws from her
face to look at the little girl
reproachfully. "My hands will
get all sunburned and tanned
without my mittens, and I've
worn them so long that I'll probably
catch cold without them."
"Nonsense!" said Dorothy. "I
never heard of any kangaroo wearing
mittens."
"Didn't you?" asked
the animal, as if surprised.
"Never!" repeated the girl. "And
you'll probably make yourself
sick if you don't stop crying.
Where do you live?"
"About two miles beyond Fuddlecumjig," was
the answer. "Grandmother Gnit
made me the mittens, and she's
one of the Fuddles."
"Well, you'd better go home
now, and perhaps the old lady
will make you another pair," suggested
Dorothy. "We're on our way to
Fuddlecumjig, and you may hop
along beside us."
So they rode on, and the kangaroo
hopped beside the red wagon and
seemed quickly to have forgotten
her loss. By and by the Wizard
said to the animal:
"Are the Fuddles
nice people?"
"Oh, very nice," answered the
kangaroo; "that is, when they're
properly put together. But they
get dreadfully scattered and
mixed up, at times, and then
you can't do anything with them."
"What do you mean by their
getting scattered?" inquired
Dorothy.
"Why, they're made in a good
many small pieces," explained
the kangaroo; "and whenever any
stranger comes near them they
have a habit of falling apart
and scattering themselves around.
That's when they get so dreadfully
mixed, and it's a hard puzzle
to put them together again."
"Who usually puts them together?" asked
Omby Amby.
"Any one who
is able to match the pieces.
I sometimes put Grandmother
Gnit together myself, because
I know her so well I can tell
every piece that belongs to her.
Then, when she's all matched,
she knits for me, and that's
how she made my mittens. But
it took a good many days hard
knitting, and I had to put Grandmother
together a good many times, because
every time I came near, she'd
scatter herself."
"I should think she would get
used to your coming, and not
be afraid," said Dorothy.
"It isn't that," replied the
kangaroo. "They're not a bit
afraid, when they're put together,
and usually they're very jolly
and pleasant. It's just a habit
they have, to scatter themselves,
and if they didn't do it they
wouldn't be Fuddles."
The travelers thought upon
this quite seriously for a time,
while the Sawhorse continued
to carry them rapidly forward.
Then Aunt Em remarked:
"I don't see
much use our visitin' these
Fuddles. If we find them
scattered, all we can do is to
sweep 'em up, and then go about
our business."
"Oh, I b'lieve we'd better
go on," replied Dorothy. "I'm
getting hungry, and we must try
to get some luncheon at Fuddlecumjig.
Perhaps the food won't be scattered
as badly as the people."
"You'll find plenty to eat
there," declared the kangaroo,
hopping along in big bounds because
the Sawhorse was going so fast; "and
they have a fine cook, too, if
you can manage to put him together.
There's the town now--just ahead
of us!"
They looked ahead and saw a
group of very pretty houses standing
in a green field a little apart
from the main road.
"Some Munchkins came here a
few days ago and matched a lot
of people together," said the
kangaroo. "I think they are together
yet, and if you go softly, without
making any noise, perhaps they
won't scatter."
"Let's try it," suggested
the Wizard.
So they stopped the Sawhorse
and got out of the wagon, and,
after bidding good bye to the
kangaroo, who hopped away home,
they entered the field and very
cautiously approached the group
of houses.
So silently did they move that
soon they saw through the windows
of the houses, people moving
around, while others were passing
to and fro in the yards between
the buildings. They seemed much
like other people from a distance,
and apparently they did not notice
the little party so quietly approaching.
They had almost reached the
nearest house when Toto saw a
large beetle crossing the path
and barked loudly at it. Instantly
a wild clatter was heard from
the houses and yards. Dorothy
thought it sounded like a sudden
hailstorm, and the visitors,
knowing that caution was no longer
necessary, hurried forward to
see what had happened.
After the clatter an intense
stillness reigned in the town.
The strangers entered the first
house they came to, which was
also the largest, and found the
floor strewn with pieces of the
people who lived there. They
looked much like fragments of
wood neatly painted, and were
of all sorts of curious and fantastic
shapes, no two pieces being in
any way alike.
They picked up some of these
pieces and looked at them carefully.
On one which Dorothy held was
an eye, which looked at her pleasantly
but with an interested expression,
as if it wondered what she was
going to do with it. Quite near
by she discovered and picked
up a nose, and by matching the
two pieces together found that
they were part of a face.
"If I could find the mouth," she
said, "this Fuddle might be able
to talk, and tell us what to
do next."
"Then let us find it," replied
the Wizard, and so all got down
on their hands and knees and
began examining the scattered
pieces.
"I've found it!" cried
the Shaggy Man, and ran to
Dorothy
with a queer-shaped piece that
had a mouth on it. But when they
tried to fit it to the eye and
nose they found the parts wouldn't
match together.
"That mouth belongs to some
other person," said Dorothy. "You
see we need a curve here and
a point there, to make it fit
the face."
"Well, it must be here some
place," declared the Wizard; "so
if we search long enough we shall
find it."
Dorothy fitted an ear on next,
and the ear had a little patch
of red hair above it. So while
the others were searching for
the mouth she hunted for pieces
with red hair, and found several
of them which, when matched to
the other pieces, formed the
top of a man's head. She had
also found the other eye and
the ear by the time Omby Amby
in a far corner discovered the
mouth. When the face was thus
completed, all the parts joined
together with a nicety that was
astonishing.
"Why, it's like a picture puzzle!" exclaimed
the little girl. "Let's find
the rest of him, and get him
all together."
"What's the rest of him like?" asked
the Wizard. "Here are some pieces
of blue legs and green arms,
but I don't know whether they
are his or not."
"Look for a white shirt and
a white apron," said the head
which had been put together,
speaking in a rather faint voice. "I'm
the cook."
"Oh, thank you," said Dorothy. "It's
lucky we started you first, for
I'm hungry, and you can be cooking
something for us to eat while
we match the other folks together."
It was not so very difficult,
now that they had a hint as to
how the man was dressed, to find
the other pieces belonging to
him, and as all of them now worked
on the cook, trying piece after
piece to see if it would fit,
they finally had the cook set
up complete.
When he was finished he made
them a low bow and said:
"I will go
at once to the kitchen to prepare
your dinner. You will
find it something of a job to
get all the Fuddles together,
so I advise you to begin on the
Lord High Chigglewitz, whose
first name is Larry. He's a bald-headed
fat man and is dressed in a blue
coat with brass buttons, a pink
vest and drab breeches. A piece
of his left knee is missing,
having been lost years ago when
he scattered himself too carelessly.
That makes him limp a little,
but he gets along very well with
half a knee. As he is the chief
personage in this town of Fuddlecumjig,
he will be able to welcome you
and assist you with the others.
So it will be best to work on
him while I'm getting your dinner."
"We will," said the Wizard; "and
thank you very much, Cook, for
the suggestion."
Aunt Em was the first to discover
a piece of the Lord High Chigglewitz.
"It seems to me like a fool
business, this matching folks
together," she remarked; "but
as we haven't anything to do
till dinner's ready, we may as
well get rid of some of this
rubbish. Here, Henry, get busy
and look for Larry's bald head.
I've got his pink vest, all right."
They worked with eager interest,
and Billina proved a great help
to them. The Yellow Hen had sharp
eyes and could put her head close
to the various pieces that lay
scattered around. She would examine
the Lord High Chigglewitz and
see which piece of him was next
needed, and then hunt around
until she found it. So before
an hour had passed old Larry
was standing complete before
them.
"I congratulate you, my friends," he
said, speaking in a cheerful
voice. "You are certainly the
cleverest people who ever visited
us. I was never matched together
so quickly in my life. I'm considered
a great puzzle, usually."
"Well," said Dorothy, "there
used to be a picture puzzle craze
in Kansas, and so I've had some
'sperience matching puzzles.
But the pictures were flat, while
you are round, and that makes
you harder to figure out."
"Thank you, my dear," replied
old Larry, greatly pleased. "I
feel highly complimented. Were
I not a really good puzzle, there
would be no object in my scattering
myself."
"Why do you do it?" asked Aunt
Em, severely. "Why don't you
behave yourself, and stay put
together?"
The Lord High Chigglewitz seemed
annoyed by this speech; but he
replied, politely:
"Madam, you
have perhaps noticed that every
person has some peculiarity.
Mine is to scatter myself. What
your own peculiarity is I will
not venture to say; but I shall
never find fault with you, whatever
you do."
"Now you've got your diploma,
Em," said Uncle Henry, with a
laugh, "and I'm glad of it. This
is a queer country, and we may
as well take people as we find
them."
"If we did, we'd leave these
folks scattered," she returned,
and this retort made everybody
laugh good-naturedly.
Just then Omby Amby found a
hand with a knitting needle in
it, and they decided to put Grandmother
Gnit together. She proved an
easier puzzle than old Larry,
and when she was completed they
found her a pleasant old lady
who welcomed them cordially.
Dorothy told her how the kangaroo
had lost her mittens, and Grandmother
Gnit promised to set to work
at once and make the poor animal
another pair.
Then the cook came to call
them to dinner, and they found
an inviting meal prepared for
them. The Lord High Chigglewitz
sat at the head of the table
and Grandmother Gnit at the foot,
and the guests had a merry time
and thoroughly enjoyed themselves.
After dinner they went out
into the yard and matched several
other people together, and this
work was so interesting that
they might have spent the entire
day at Fuddlecumjig had not the
Wizard suggested that they resume
their journey.
"But I don't like to leave
all these poor people scattered," said
Dorothy, undecided what to do.
"Oh, don't mind us, my dear," returned
old Larry. "Every day or so some
of the Gillikins, or Munchkins,
or Winkies come here to amuse
themselves by matching us together,
so there will be no harm in leaving
these pieces where they are for
a time. But I hope you will visit
us again, and if you do you will
always be welcome, I assure you."
"Don't you ever match each
other?" she inquired.
"Never; for
we are no puzzles to ourselves,
and so there wouldn't
be any fun in it."
They now said goodbye to the
queer Fuddles and got into their
wagon to continue their journey.
"Those are certainly strange
people," remarked Aunt Em, thoughtfully,
as they drove away from Fuddlecumjig, "but
I really can't see what use they
are, at all."
"Why, they amused us all for
several hours," replied the Wizard. "That
is being of use to us, I'm sure."
"I think they're more fun than
playing solitaire or mumbletypeg," declared
Uncle Henry, soberly. "For my
part, I'm glad we visited the
Fuddles."
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