"You are my prisoner, and it
is useless for you to struggle
any longer," said Glinda, in
her soft, sweet voice. "Lie still
a moment, and rest yourself,
and then I will carry you back
to my tent."
"Why do you seek me?" asked
Mombi, still scarce able to speak
plainly for lack of breath. "What
have I done to you, to be so
persecuted?"
"You have done nothing to me," answered
the gentle Sorceress; "but I
suspect you have been guilty
of several wicked actions; and
if I find it is true that you
have so abused your knowledge
of magic, I intend to punish
you severely."
"I defy you!" croaked the old
hag. "You dare not harm me!"
Just then the Gump flew up
to them and alighted upon the
desert sands beside Glinda. Our
friends were delighted to find
that Mombi had finally been captured,
and after a hurried consultation
it was decided they should all
return to the camp in the Gump.
So the Saw-Horse was tossed aboard,
and then Glinda still holding
an end of the golden thread that
was around Mombi's neck, forced
her prisoner to climb into the
sofas. The others now followed,
and Tip gave the word to the
Gump to return.
The Journey was made in safety,
Mombi sitting in her place with
a grim and sullen air; for the
old hag was absolutely helpless
so long as the magical thread
encircled her throat. The army
hailed Glinda's return with loud
cheers, and the party of friends
soon gathered again in the royal
tent, which had been neatly repaired
during their absence.
"Now," said the Sorceress to
Mombi, "I want you to tell us
why the Wonderful Wizard of Oz
paid you three visits, and what
became of the child, Ozma, which
so curiously disappeared."
The Witch looked at Glinda
defiantly, but said not a word.
"Answer me!" cried
the Sorceress.
But still Mombi remained silent.
"Perhaps she doesn't know," remarked
Jack.
"I beg you will keep quiet," said
Tip. "You might spoil everything
with your foolishness."
"Very well, dear father!" returned
the Pumpkinhead, meekly.
"How glad I am to be a Woggle-Bug!" murmured
the Highly Magnified Insect,
softly. "No one can expect wisdom
to flow from a pumpkin."
"Well," said the Scarecrow, "what
shall we do to make Mombi speak?
Unless she tells us what we wish
to know her capture will do us
no good at all."
"Suppose we try kindness," suggested
the Tin Woodman. "I've heard
that anyone can be conquered
with kindness, no matter how
ugly they may be."
At this the Witch turned to
glare upon him so horribly that
the Tin Woodman shrank back abashed.
Glinda had been carefully considering
what to do, and now she turned
to Mombi and said:
"You
will gain nothing,
I assure you,
by thus defying
us. For
I am determined to learn the
truth about the girl Ozma, and
unless you tell me all that you
know, I will certainly put you
to death."
"Oh, no! Don't do that!" exclaimed
the Tin Woodman. "It would be
an awful thing to kill anyone
-- even old Mombi!"
"But it is merely a threat," returned
Glinda. "I shall not put Mombi
to death, because she will prefer
to tell me the truth."
"Oh, I see!" said
the tin man,
much relieved.
"Suppose I tell you all that
you wish to know,". said Mombi,
speaking so suddenly that she
startled them all. "What will
you do with me then?"
"In that case," replied Glinda, "I
shall merely ask you to drink
a powerful draught which will
cause you to forget all the magic
you have ever learned."
"Then
I would become
a helpless
old woman!"
"But you would be alive," suggested
the Pumpkinhead, consolingly.
"Do try to keep silent!" said
Tip, nervously.
"I'll try," responded Jack; "but
you will admit that it's a good
thing to be alive."
"Especially if one happens
to be Thoroughly Educated," added
the Woggle-Bug, nodding approval.
"You may make your choice," Glinda
said to old Mombi, "between death
if you remain silent, and the
loss of your magical powers if
you tell me the truth. But I
think you will prefer to live.
Mombi cast an uneasy glance
at the Sorceress, and saw that
she was in earnest, and not to
be trifled with. So she replied,
slowly:
"I
will answer
your questions."
"That is what I expected," said
Glinda, pleasantly. "You have
chosen wisely, I assure you."
She then motioned to one of
her Captains, who brought her
a beautiful golden casket. From
this the Sorceress drew an immense
white pearl, attached to a slender
chain which she placed around
her neck in such a way that the
pearl rested upon her bosom,
directly over her heart.
"Now," said she, "I
will ask my
first question:
Why did the
Wizard pay you three visits?"
"Because I would not come to
him," answered Mombi.
"That is no answer," said Glinda,
sternly. "Tell me the truth."
"Well," returned Mombi, with
downcast eyes, "he visited me
to learn the way I make tea-biscuits."
"Look up!" commanded
the Sorceress.
Mombi obeyed.
"What is the color of my pearl?" demanded
Glinda.
"Why -- it is black!" replied
the old Witch, in a tone of wonder.
"Then you have told me a falsehood!" cried
Glinda, angrily. "Only when the
truth is spoken will my magic
pearl remain a pure white in
color."
Mombi now saw how useless it
was to try to deceive the Sorceress;
so she said, meanwhile scowling
at her defeat:
"The
Wizard brought
to me the girl
Ozma, who was
then no more
than a baby, and begged me to
conceal the child."
"That is what I thought," declared
Glinda, calmly. "What did he
give you for thus serving him?"
"He
taught me all
the magical
tricks he knew. Some were good
tricks, and some were only frauds;
but I have remained faithful
to my promise."
"What did you do with the girl?" asked
Glinda; and at this question
everyone bent forward and listened
eagerly for the reply.
"I enchanted her," answered
Mombi.
"In
what way?"
"I
transformed
her into --
into -- "
"Into what?" demanded
Glinda, as
the Witch hesitated.
"Into a boy!" said
Mombi, in a
low tone."
A
boy!" echoed
every voice;
and then, because they knew that
this old woman had reared Tip
from childhood, all eyes were
turned to where the boy stood.
"Yes," said the old Witch,
nodding her head; "that is the
Princess Ozma -- the child brought
to me by the Wizard who stole
her father's throne. That is
the rightful ruler of the Emerald
City!" and she pointed her long
bony finger straight at the boy.
"I!" cried Tip, in amazement. "Why,
I'm no Princess Ozma -- I'm not
a girl!"
Glinda smiled, and going to
Tip she took his small brown
hand within her dainty white
one.
"You are not a girl just now" said
she, gently, "because Mombi transformed
you into a boy. But you were
born a girl, and also a Princess;
so you must resume your proper
form, that you may become Queen
of the Emerald City."
"Oh, let Jinjur be the Queen!" exclaimed
Tip, ready to cry. "I want to
stay a boy, and travel with the
Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman,
and the Woggle- Bug, and Jack
-- yes! and my friend the Saw-Horse
-- and the Gump! I don't want
to be a girl!"
"Never mind, old chap," said
the Tin Woodman, soothingly; "it
don't hurt to be a girl, I'm
told; and we will all remain
your faithful friends just the
same. And, to be honest with
you, I've always considered girls
nicer than boys."
"They're just as nice, anyway," added
the Scarecrow, patting Tip affectionately
upon the head.
"And they are equally good
students," proclaimed the Woggle-Bug. "I
should like to become your tutor,
when you are transformed into
a girl again."
"But -- see here!" said Jack
Pumpkinhead, with a gasp: "if
you become a girl, you can't
be my dear father any more!"
"No," answered Tip, laughing
in spite of his anxiety. "and
I shall not be sorry to escape
the relationship." Then he added,
hesitatingly, as he turned to
Glinda: "I might try it for awhile,-just
to see how it seems, you know.
But if I don't like being a girl
you must promise to change me
into a boy again."
"Really," said the Sorceress, "that
is beyond my magic. I never deal
in transformations, for they
are not honest, and no respectable
sorceress likes to make things
appear to be what they are not.
Only unscrupulous witches use
the art, and therefore I must
ask Mombi to effect your release
from her charm, and restore you
to your proper form. It will
be the last opportunity she will
have to practice magic."
Now that the truth about Princes
Ozma had been discovered, Mombi
did not care what became of Tip;
but she feared Glinda's anger,
and the boy generously promised
to provide for Mombi in her old
age if he became the ruler of
the Emerald City. So the Witch
consented to effect the transformation,
and preparations for the event
were at once made.
Glinda ordered her own royal
couch to be placed in the center
of the tent. It was piled high
with cushions covered with rose-colored
silk, and from a golden railing
above hung many folds of pink
gossamer, completely concealing
the interior of the couch.
The first act of the Witch
was to make the boy drink a potion
which quickly sent him into a
deep and dreamless sleep. Then
the Tin Woodman and the Woggle-Bug
bore him gently to the couch,
placed him upon the soft cushions,
and drew the gossamer hangings
to shut him from all earthly
view.
The Witch squatted upon the
ground and kindled a tiny fire
of dried herbs, which she drew
from her bosom. When the blaze
shot up and burned clearly old
Mombi scattered a handful of
magical powder over the fire,
which straightway gave off a
rich violet vapor, filling all
the tent with its fragrance and
forcing the Saw-Horse to sneeze
-- although he had been warned
to keep quiet.
Then,
while the others
watched her
curiously,
the hag chanted
a rhythmical verse in words which
no one understood, and bent her
lean body seven times back and
forth over the fire. And now
the incantation seemed complete,
for the Witch stood upright and
cried the one word "Yeowa!" in
a loud voice.
The vapor floated away; the
atmosphere became, clear again;
a whiff of fresh air filled the
tent, and the pink curtains of
the couch trembled slightly,
as if stirred from within.
Glinda walked to the canopy
and parted the silken hangings.
Then she bent over the cushions,
reached out her hand, and from
the couch arose the form of a
young girl, fresh and beautiful
as a May morning. Her eyes sparkled
as two diamonds, and her lips
were tinted like a tourmaline.
All adown her back floated tresses
of ruddy gold, with a slender
jeweled circlet confining them
at the brow. Her robes of silken
gauze floated around her like
a cloud, and dainty satin slippers
shod her feet.
At this exquisite vision Tip's
old comrades stared in wonder
for the space of a full minute,
and then every head bent low
in honest admiration of the lovely
Princess Ozma. The girl herself
cast one look into Glinda's bright
face, which glowed with pleasure
and satisfaction, and then turned
upon the others. Speaking the
words with sweet diffidence,
she said:
"I
hope none of
you will care
less for me than you did before.
I'm just the same Tip, you know;
only -- only -- "
"Only you're different!" said
the Pumpkinhead; and everyone
thought it was the wisest speech
he had ever made.
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