“How do you feel now?”
“Fine,” said the Clockwork Man. “You have done a ve-ry good job, Kal-i-ko, and saved me from destruction. Much obliged.”
“Don’t mention it,” replied the Chief Steward. “I quite enjoyed the work.”
Just then the Nome King’s gong sounded, and Kaliko rushed away through the jewel-studded cavern and into the den where the King had hidden, leaving the doors ajar.
“Kaliko,” said the King, in a meek voice, “I’ve been shut up here long enough to repent bitterly the destruction of Tiktok. Of course Ozma will have revenge, and send an army to fight us, but we must take our medicine. One thing comforts me: Tiktok wasn’t really a live person; he was only a machine man, and so it wasn’t very wicked to stop his clockworks. I couldn’t sleep nights, at first, for worry; but there’s no more harm in smashing a machine man than in breaking a wax doll. Don’t you think so?”
“I am too humble to think in the presence of your Majesty,” said Kaliko.
“Then get me something to eat,” commanded the King, “for I’m nearly starved. Two roasted goats, a barrel of cakes and nine mince pies will do me until dinnertime.”
Kaliko bowed and hurried away to the royal kitchen, forgetting Tiktok, who was wandering around in the outer cavern. Suddenly the Nome King looked up and saw the Clockwork Man standing before him, and at the sight the monarch’s eyes grew big and round and he fell a-trembling in every limb.
“Away, grim Shadow!” he cried. “You’re not here, you know; you’re only a hash of cogwheels and springs, lying at the bottom of the black pit. Vanish, thou Vision of the demolished Tiktok, and leave me in peace—for I have bitterly repented!”
“Then beg my pardon,” said Tiktok in a gruff voice, for Kaliko had forgotten to oil the speech works.
But the sound of a voice coming from what he thought a mere vision was too much for the Nome King’s shaken nerves. He gave a yell of fear and rushed from the room. Tiktok followed, so the King bolted through the corridors on a swift run and bumped against Kaliko, who was returning with a tray of things to eat. The sound of the breaking dishes, as they struck the floor, added to the King’s terror and he yelled again and dashed into a great cavern where a thousand Nomes were at work hammering metal.
“Look out! Here comes a phantom clockwork man!” screamed the terrified monarch, and every Nome dropped his tools and made a rush from the cavern, knocking over their King in their mad flight and recklessly trampling upon his prostrate fat body. So, when Tiktok came into the cavern, there was only the Nome King left, and he was rolling upon the rocky floor and howling for mercy, with his eyes fast shut so that he could not see what he was sure was a dreadful phantom that was coming straight toward him.
“It oc-curs to me,” said Tiktok calmly, “that your Maj-es-ty is act-ing like a ba-by I am not a phantom. A phantom is unreal, while I am the real thing.”
The King rolled over, sat up and opened his eyes.
“Didn’t I smash you to pieces?” he asked in trembling tones.
“Yes,” said Tiktok.
“Then you are nothing but a junk-heap, and this form in which you now appear cannot be real.”
“It is, though,” declared Tiktok. “Kal-i-ko picked up my piec-es and put me to-geth-er a-gain. I’m as good as new, and perhaps bet-ter.”
“That is true, your Majesty,” added Kaliko, who now made his appearance, “and I hope you will forgive me for mending Tiktok. He was quite broken up, after you smashed him, and I found it almost as hard a job to match his pieces as to pick turnips from gooseberry bushes. But I did it,” he added proudly.
“You are forgiven,” announced the Nome King, rising to his feet and drawing a long breath. “I will raise your wages one specto a year, and Tiktok shall return to the Land of Oz loaded with jewels for the Princess Ozma.”
“That is all right,” said Tiktok. “But what I want to know is, why did you hit me with your mace?”
“Because I was angry,” admitted the King. “When I am angry I always do something that I am sorry for afterward. So I have firmly resolved never to get angry again; unless—unless—”
“Unless what, your Majesty?” inquired Kaliko.
“Unless something annoys me,” said the Nome King. And then he went to his treasure-chamber to get the jewels for Princess Ozma of Oz.
Ozma and the Little Wizard
Once upon a time there lived in the beautiful Emerald City, which lies in the center of the fairy Land of Oz, a lovely girl called Princess Ozma, who was ruler of all that country. And among those who served this girlish Ruler and lived in a cozy suite of rooms in her splendid palace, was a little, withered old man known as the Wizard of Oz.
This little Wizard could do a good many queer things in magic; but he was a kind man, with merry, twinkling eyes and a sweet smile; so, instead of fearing him because of his magic, everybody loved him.
Now, Ozma was very anxious that all her people who inhabited the pleasant Land of Oz should be happy and contented, and therefore she decided one morning to make a journey to all parts of the country, that she might discover if anything was amiss, or anyone discontented, or if there was any wrong that ought to be righted. She asked the little Wizard to accompany her and he was glad to go.
“Shall I take my bag of magic tools with me?” he asked.
“Of course,” said Ozma. “We may need a lot of magic before we return, for we are going into strange corners of the land, where we may meet with unknown creatures and dangerous adventures.”
So the Wizard took his bag of magic tools and the two left the Emerald City and wandered over the country for many days, at last reaching a place far up in the mountains which neither of them had ever visited before. Stopping one morning at a cottage, built beside the rocky path which led into a pretty valley beyond, Ozma asked a man:
“Are you happy? Have you any complaint to make of your lot?”
And the man replied:
“We are happy except for three mischievous Imps that live in yonder valley and often come here to annoy us. If your Highness would only drive away those Imps, I and my family would be very happy and very grateful to you.”
“Who are these bad Imps?” inquired the girl Ruler.
“One is named Olite, and one Udent and one Ertinent, and they have no respect for anyone or anything. If strangers pass through the valley the Imps jeer at them and make horrid faces and call names, and often they push travelers out of the path or throw stones at them. Whenever Imp Olite or Imp Udent or Imp Ertinent comes here to bother us, I and my family run into the house and lock all the doors and windows, and we dare not venture out again until the Imps have gone away.”
Princess Ozma was grieved to hear this report and the little Wizard shook his head gravely and said the naughty Imps deserved to be punished. They told the good man they would see what could be done to protect him and at once entered the valley to seek the dwelling place of the three mischievous creatures.
Before long they came upon three caves, hollowed from the rocks, and in front of each cave squatted a queer little dwarf. Ozma and the Wizard paused to examine them and found them well-shaped, strong and lively. They had big round ears, flat noses and wide grinning mouths, and their jet-black hair came to points on top of their heads, much resembling horns. Their clothing fitted snugly to their bodies and limbs and the Imps were so small in size that at first Ozma did not consider them at all dangerous. But one of them suddenly reached