A day's journey from the Emerald
City brought the little band
of adventurers to the home of
Jack Pumpkinhead, which was a
house formed from the shell of
an immense pumpkin. Jack had
made it himself and was very
proud of it. There was a door,
and several windows, and through
the top was stuck a stovepipe
that led from a small stove inside.
The door was reached by a flight
of three steps and there was
a good floor on which was arranged
some furniture that was quite
comfortable.
It is certain that Jack Pumpkinhead
might have had a much finer house
to live in bad he wanted it,
for Ozma loved the stupid fellow,
who had been her earliest companion;
but Jack preferred his pumpkin
house, as it matched himself
very well, and in this he was
not so stupid, after all.
The body of this remarkable
person was made of wood, branches
of trees of various sizes having
been used for the purpose. This
wooden framework was covered
by a red shirt--with white spots
in it--blue trousers, a yellow
vest, a jacket of green-and-gold
and stout leather shoes. The
neck was a sharpened stick on
which the pumpkin head was set,
and the eyes, ears, nose and
mouth were carved on the skin
of the pumpkin, very like a child's
jack-o'-lantern.
The house of this interesting
creation stood in the center
of a vast pumpkin-field, where
the vines grew in profusion and
bore pumpkins of extraordinary
size as well as those which were
smaller. Some of the pumpkins
now ripening on the vines were
almost as large as Jack's house,
and he told Dorothy he intended
to add another pumpkin to his
mansion.
The travelers were cordially
welcomed to this quaint domicile
and invited to pass the night
there, which they had planned
to do. The Patchwork Girl was
greatly interested in Jack and
examined him admiringly.
"You are quite handsome," she
said; "but not as really beautiful
as the Scarecrow."
Jack turned, at this, to examine
the Scarecrow critically, and
his old friend slyly winked one
painted eye at him.
"There is no accounting for
tastes," remarked the Pumpkinhead,
with a sigh. "An old crow once
told me I was very fascinating,
but of course the bird might
have been mistaken. Yet I have
noticed that the crows usually
avoid the Scarecrow, who is a
very honest fellow, in his way,
but stuffed. I am not stuffed,
you will observe; my body is
good solid hickory."
"I adore stuffing," said
the Patchwork Girl.
"Well, as for that, my head
is stuffed with pumpkin-seeds," declared
Jack. "I use them for brains,
and when they are fresh I am
intellectual. Just now, I regret
to say, my seeds are rattling
a bit, so I must soon get another
head."
"Oh; do you change your head?" asked
Ojo.
"To be sure.
Pumpkins are not permanent,
more's the pity, and
in time they spoil. That is why
I grow such a great field of
pumpkins--that I may select a
new head whenever necessary."
"Who carves the faces on them?" inquired
the boy.
"I do that
myself. I lift off my old head,
place it on a table
before me, and use the face for
a pattern to go by. Sometimes
the faces I carve are better
than others--more expressive
and cheerful, you know--but I
think they average very well."
Before she
had started on the journey
Dorothy had packed a
knapsack with the things she
might need, and this knapsack
the Scarecrow carried strapped
to his back. The little girl
wore a plain gingham dress and
a checked sunbonnet, as she knew
they were best fitted for travel.
Ojo also had brought along his
basket, to which Ozma had added
a bottle of "Square Meal Tablets" and
some fruit. But Jack Pumpkinhead
grew a lot of things in his garden
besides pumpkins, so he cooked
for them a fine vegetable soup
and gave Dorothy, Ojo and Toto,
the only ones who found it necessary
to eat, a pumpkin pie and some
green cheese. For beds they must
use the sweet dried grasses which
Jack had strewn along one side
of the room, but that satisfied
Dorothy and Ojo very well. Toto,
of course, slept beside his little
mistress.
The Scarecrow, Scraps and the
Pumpkinhead were tireless and
had no need to sleep, so they
sat up and talked together all
night; but they stayed outside
the house, under the bright stars,
and talked in low tones so as
not to disturb the sleepers.
During the conversation the Scarecrow
explained their quest for a dark
well, and asked Jack's advice
where to find it.
The Pumpkinhead considered
the matter gravely.
"That is going to be a difficult
task," said he, "and if I were
you I'd take any ordinary well
and enclose it, so as to make
it dark."
"I fear that wouldn't do," replied
the Scarecrow. "The well must
be naturally dark, and the water
must never have seen the light
of day, for otherwise the magic
charm might not work at all."
"How much of the water do you
need?" asked Jack.
"A gill."
"How much is
a gill?"
"Why--a gill is a gill, of
course," answered the Scarecrow,
who did not wish to display his
ignorance.
"I know!" cried Scraps. "Jack
and Jill went up the hill to
fetch--"
"No, no; that's wrong," interrupted
the Scarecrow. "There are two
kinds of gills, I think; one
is a girl, and the other is--"
"A gillyflower," said
Jack.
"No; a measure."
"How big a
measure?"
"Well, I'll
ask Dorothy."
So next morning they asked
Dorothy, and she said:
"I don't just
know how much a gill is, but
I've brought along
a gold flask that holds a pint.
That's more than a gill, I'm
sure, and the Crooked Magician
may measure it to suit himself.
But the thing that's bothering
us most, Jack, is to find the
well."
Jack gazed around the landscape,
for he was standing in the doorway
of his house.
"This is a flat country, so
you won t find any dark wells
here," said he. "You must go
into the mountains, where rocks
and caverns are.
"And where is that?" asked
Ojo.
"In the Quadling Country, which
lies south of here," replied
the Scarecrow. "I've known all
along that we must go to the
mountains."
"So have I," said
Dorothy.
"But--goodness me!--the Quadling
Country is full of dangers," declared
Jack. "I've never been there
myself, but--"
"I have," said the Scarecrow. "I've
faced the dreadful Hammerheads,
which have no arms and butt you
like a goat; and I've faced the
Fighting Trees, which bend down
their branches to pound and whip
you, and had many other adventures
there."
"It's a wild country," remarked
Dorothy, soberly, "and if we
go there we're sure to have troubles
of our own. But I guess we'll
have to go, if we want that gill
of water from the dark well."
So they said good-bye to the
Pumpkinhead and resumed their
travels, heading now directly
toward the South Country, where
mountains and rocks and caverns
and forests of great trees abounded.
This part of the Land of Oz,
while it belonged to Ozma and
owed her allegiance, was so wild
and secluded that many queer
peoples hid in its jungles and
lived in their own way, without
even a knowledge that they had
a Ruler in the Emerald City.
If they were left alone, these
creatures never troubled the
inhabitants of the rest of Oz,
but those who invaded their domains
encountered many dangers from
them.
It was a two days journey from
Jack Pumkinhead's house to the
edge of the Quadling Country,
for neither Dorothy nor Ojo could
walk very fast and they often
stopped by the wayside to rest.
The first night they slept on
the broad fields, among the buttercups
and daisies, and the Scarecrow
covered the children with a gauze
blanket taken from his knapsack,
so they would not be chilled
by the night air. Toward evening
of the second day they reached
a sandy plain where walking was
difficult; but some distance
before them they saw a group
of palm trees, with many curious
black dots under them; so they
trudged bravely on to reach that
place by dark and spend the night
under the shelter of the trees.
The black dots grew larger
as they advanced and although
the light was dim Dorothy thought
they looked like big kettles
turned upside down. Just beyond
this place a jumble of huge,
jagged rocks lay scattered, rising
to the mountains behind them.
Our travelers preferred to
attempt to climb these rocks
by daylight, and they realized
that for a time this would be
their last night on the plains.
Twilight had fallen by the
time they came to the trees,
beneath which were the black,
circular objects they had marked
from a distance. Dozens of them
were scattered around and Dorothy
bent near to one, which was about
as tall as she was, to examine
it more closely. As she did so
the top flew open and out popped
a dusky creature, rising its
length into the air and then
plumping down upon the ground
just beside the little girl.
Another and another popped out
of the circular, pot-like dwelling,
while from all the other black
objects came popping more creatures--very
like jumping-jacks when their
boxes are unhooked--until fully
a hundred stood gathered around
our little group of travelers.
By this time Dorothy had discovered
they were people, tiny and curiously
formed, but still people. Their
skins were dusky and their hair
stood straight up, like wires,
and was brilliant scarlet in
color. Their bodies were bare
except for skins fastened around
their waists and they wore bracelets
on their ankles and wrists, and
necklaces, and great pendant
earrings.
Toto crouched
beside his mistress and wailed
as if he did not like
these strange creatures a bit.
Scraps began to mutter something
about "hopity, poppity, jumpity,
dump!" but no one paid any attention
to her. Ojo kept close to the
Scarecrow and the Scarecrow kept
close to Dorothy; but the little
girl turned to the queer creatures
and asked:
"Who are you?"
They answered this question
all together, in a sort of chanting
chorus, the words being as follows:
"We're the
jolly Tottenhots; We do not
like the day, But in
the night 'tis our delight To
gambol, skip and play.
"We hate the
sun and from it run, The moon
is cool and clear,
So on this spot each Tottenhot
Waits for it to appear.
"We're ev'ry
one chock full of fun, And
full of mischief,
too; But if you're gay and with
us play We'll do no harm to you.
"Glad to meet you, Tottenhots," said
the Scarecrow solemnly. "But
you mustn't expect us to play
with you all night, for we've
traveled all day and some of
us are tired."
"And we never gamble," added
the Patchwork Girl. "It's against
the Law."
These remarks were greeted
with shouts of laughter by the
impish creatures and one seized
the Scarecrow's arm and was astonished
to find the straw man whirl around
so easily. So the Tottenhot raised
the Scarecrow high in the air
and tossed him over the heads
of the crowd. Some one caught
him and tossed him back, and
so with shouts of glee they continued
throwing the Scarecrow here and
there, as if he had been a basket-ball.
Presently another imp seized
Scraps and began to throw her
about, in the same way. They
found her a little heavier than
the Scarecrow but still light
enough to be tossed like a sofa-cushion,
and they were enjoying the sport
immensely when Dorothy, angry
and indignant at the treatment
her friends were receiving, rushed
among the Tottenhots and began
slapping and pushing them until
she had rescued the Scarecrow
and the Patchwork Girl and held
them close on either side of
her. Perhaps she would not have
accomplished this victory so
easily had not Toto helped her,
barking and snapping at the bare
legs of the imps until they were
glad to flee from his attack.
As for Ojo, some of the creatures
had attempted to toss him, also,
but finding his body too heavy
they threw him to the ground
and a row of the imps sat on
him and held him from assisting
Dorothy in her battle.
The little brown folks were
much surprised at being attacked
by the girl and the dog, and
one or two who had been slapped
hardest began to cry. Then suddenly
they gave a shout, all together,
and disappeared in a flash into
their various houses, the tops
of which closed with a series
of pops that sounded like a bunch
of firecrackers being exploded.
The adventurers now found themselves
alone, and Dorothy asked anxiously:
"Is anybody
hurt?"
"Not me," answered the Scarecrow. "They
have given my straw a good shaking
up and taken all the lumps out
of it. I am now in splendid condition
and am really obliged to the
Tottenhots for their kind treatment."
"I feel much the same way," said
Scraps. "My cotton stuffing had
sagged a good deal with the day's
walking and they've loosened
it up until I feel as plump as
a sausage. But the play was a
little rough and I'd had quite
enough of it when you interfered."
"Six of them sat on me," said
Ojo, "but as they are so little
they didn't hurt me much."
Just then the roof of the house
in front of them opened and a
Tottenhot stuck his head out,
very cautiously, and looked at
the strangers.
"Can't you, take a joke?" he
asked, reproachfully; "haven
t you any fun in you at all?"
"If I had such a quality," replied
the Scarecrow, "your people would
have knocked it out of me. But
I don't bear grudges. I forgive
you."
"So do I," added Scraps. "That
is, if you behave yourselves
after this."
"It was just a little rough-house,
that's all," said the Tottenhot. "But
the question is not if we will
behave, but if you will behave?
We can't be shut up here all
night, because this is our time
to play; nor do we care to come
out and be chewed up by a savage
beast or slapped by an angry
girl. That slapping hurts like
sixty; some of my folks are crying
about it. So here's the proposition:
you let us alone and we'll let
you alone."
"You began it," declared
Dorothy.
"Well, you
ended it, so we won't argue
the matter. May we
come out again? Or are you still
cruel and slappy?"
"Tell you what we'll do," said
Dorothy. "We're all tired and
want to sleep until morning.
If you'll let us get into your
house, and stay there until daylight,
you can play outside all you
want to."
"That's a bargain!" cried
the Tottenhot eagerly, and
he gave
a queer whistle that brought
his people popping out of their
houses on all sides. When the
house before them was vacant,
Dorothy and Ojo leaned over the
hole and looked in, but could
see nothing because it was so
dark. But if the Tottenhots slept
there all day the children thought
they could sleep there at night,
so Ojo lowered himself down and
found it was not very deep."
"There's a soft cushion all
over," said he. "Come on in."
Dorothy handed Toto to the
boy and then climbed in herself.
After her came Scraps and the
Scarecrow, who did not wish to
sleep but preferred to keep out
of the way of the mischievous
Tottenhots.
There seemed no furniture in
the round den, but soft cushions
were strewn about the floor and
these they found made very comfortable
beds. They did not close the
hole in the roof but left it
open to admit air. It also admitted
the shouts and ceaseless laughter
of the impish Tottenhots as they
played outside, but Dorothy and
Ojo, being weary from their journey,
were soon fast asleep.
Toto kept an eye open, however,
and uttered low, threatening
growls whenever the racket made
by the creatures outside became
too boisterous; and the Scarecrow
and the Patchwork Girl sat leaning
against the wall and talked in
whispers all night long. No one
disturbed the travelers until
daylight, when in popped the
Tottenhot who owned the place
and invited them to vacate his
premises.
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