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American Fairy Tales, By L.
Frank Baum 1906.
American Fairy Tales is the
title of a collection of twelve little known fairy tales by L. Frank Baum, published in 1901 by the George M. Hill Company,
one year after The Wonderful Wizard of Oz.
The American Fairy
Tale stories, as critics have noted, break away from the high fantasy of the Wizard of Oz. These
American Tales have ironic or nonsensical morals attached to their ends, their tone is more satirical, glib, and tongue-in-cheek
than is usual in children's stories; the serialization in newspapers for adult readers was appropriate for the materials.
"The Magic Bon Bons" was the most popular
of the American Fairy Tales.
Other American Fairy Tale Stories like "The
Enchanted Types" and "The Dummy That Lived," create "knooks" and "ryls," the fairies that
Baum would use in The Life and Adventures of Santa Claus the next year, 1902. "The Dummy That Lived" uses a
premise about a department-store mannequin that is brought to life, an idea that would be re-used again and
again, by many writers in television and films.
The BOX OF ROBBERS, American Fairy Tales, by L. Frank Baum
No one intended to leave Martha alone that afternoon, but it happened that everyone
was called away, for one reason or another. Mrs. McFarland was attending the weekly card party held by the Women's Anti-Gambling
League. Sister Nell's young man had called quite unexpectedly to take her for a long drive. Papa was at the office, as usual.
It was Mary Ann's day out. As for Emeline, she certainly should have stayed in the house and looked after the
girl; but Emeline had a restless nature.
"Would you mind, miss, if I just crossed the alley to speak a word to
Mrs. Carleton's girl?" she asked Martha.
"'Course not," replied the child. "You'd better lock the back door, though,
and take the key, for I shall be upstairs."
"Oh, I'll do that, of course, miss," said the delighted maid, and ran
away to spend the afternoon with her friend, leaving Martha quite alone in the big house, and locked in, into the bargain.
The little girl read a few pages in her new book, sewed a few stitches in her embroidery and started to "play visiting"
with her four favorite dolls. Then she remembered that in the attic was a doll's playhouse that hadn't been used for months,
so she decided she would dust it and put it in order.
Filled with this idea, the girl climbed the winding stairs
to the big room under the roof. It was well lighted by three dormer windows and was warm and pleasant. Around the walls were
rows of boxes and trunks, piles of old carpeting, pieces of damaged furniture, bundles of discarded clothing and other odds
and ends of more or less value.
Every well-regulated house has an attic of this sort, so I need not describe it.
The doll's house had been moved, but after a search Martha found it away over in a corner near the big chimney.
She drew it out and noticed that behind it was a black wooden chest which Uncle Walter had sent over from Italy years
and years ago--before Martha was born, in fact. Mamma had told her about it one day; how there was no key to it, because Uncle
Walter wished it to remain unopened until he returned home; and how this wandering uncle, who was a mighty hunter, had gone
into Africa to hunt elephants and had never been heard from afterwards.
The little girl looked at the chest curiously,
now that it had by accident attracted her attention.
It was quite big--bigger even than mamma's traveling trunk--and
was studded all over with tarnished brassheaded nails. It was heavy, too, for when Martha tried to lift one end of it she
found she could not stir it a bit. But there was a place in the side of the cover for a key. She stooped to examine the lock,
and saw that it would take a rather big key to open it.
Then, as you may suspect, the little girl longed to open
Uncle Walter's big box and see what was in it. For we are all curious, and little girls are just as curious as the rest of
"I don't b'lieve Uncle Walter'll ever come back," she thought. "Papa said once that some elephant must have
killed him. If I only had a key--" She stopped and clapped her little hands together gayly as she remembered a big basket
of keys on the shelf in the linen closet. They were of all sorts and sizes; perhaps one of them would unlock the mysterious
She flew down the stairs, found the basket and returned with it to the attic. Then she sat down before the
brass-studded box and began trying one key after another in the curious old lock. Some were too large, but most were too small.
One would go into the lock but would not turn; another stuck so fast that she feared for a time that she would never get it
out again. But at last, when the basket was almost empty, an oddly-shaped, ancient brass key slipped easily into the lock.
With a cry of joy Martha turned the key with both hands; then she heard a sharp "click," and the next moment the heavy lid
flew up of its own accord!
The little girl leaned over the edge of the chest an instant, and the sight that met
her eyes caused her to start back in amazement.
Slowly and carefully a man unpacked himself from the chest, stepped
out upon the floor, stretched his limbs and then took off his hat and bowed politely to the astonished child.
was tall and thin and his face seemed badly tanned or sunburnt.
Then another man emerged from the chest, yawning
and rubbing his eyes like a sleepy schoolboy. He was of middle size and his skin seemed as badly tanned as that of the first.
While Martha stared open-mouthed at the remarkable sight a third man crawled from the chest. He had the same complexion
as his fellows, but was short and fat.
All three were dressed in a curious manner. They wore short jackets of red
velvet braided with gold, and knee breeches of sky-blue satin with silver buttons. Over their stockings were laced wide ribbons
of red and yellow and blue, while their hats had broad brims with high, peaked crowns, from which fluttered yards of bright-colored
They had big gold rings in their ears and rows of knives and pistols in their belts. Their eyes were black
and glittering and they wore long, fierce mustaches, curling at the ends like a pig's tail.
"My! but you were heavy,"
exclaimed the fat one, when he had pulled down his velvet jacket and brushed the dust from his sky-blue breeches. "And you
squeezed me all out of shape."
"It was unavoidable, Luigi," responded the thin man, lightly; "the lid of the chest
pressed me down upon you. Yet I tender you my regrets."
"As for me," said the middle-sized man, carelessly rolling
a cigarette and lighting it, "you must acknowledge I have been your nearest friend for years; so do not be disagreeable."
"You mustn't smoke in the attic," said Martha, recovering herself at sight of the cigarette. "You might set the house
The middle-sized man, who had not noticed her before, at this speech turned to the girl and bowed.
"Since a lady requests it," said he, "I shall abandon my cigarette," and he threw it on the floor and extinguished
it with his foot.
"Who are you?" asked Martha, who until now had been too astonished to be frightened.
"Permit us to introduce ourselves," said the thin man, flourishing his hat gracefully. "This is Lugui," the fat man nodded;
"and this is Beni," the middle-sized man bowed; "and I am Victor. We are three bandits--Italian bandits."
cried Martha, with a look of horror.
"Exactly. Perhaps in all the world there are not three other bandits so terrible
and fierce as ourselves," said Victor, proudly.
"'Tis so," said the fat man, nodding gravely.
wicked!" exclaimed Martha.
"Yes, indeed," replied Victor. "We are extremely and tremendously wicked. Perhaps in
all the world you could not find three men more wicked than those who now stand before you."
"'Tis so," said the
fat man, approvingly.
"But you shouldn't be so wicked," said the girl; "it's--it's--naughty!"
cast down his eyes and blushed.
"Naughty!" gasped Beni, with a horrified look.
"'Tis a hard word," said
Luigi, sadly, and buried his face in his hands.
"I little thought," murmured Victor, in a voice broken by emotion,
"ever to be so reviled--and by a lady! Yet, perhaps you spoke thoughtlessly. You must consider, miss, that our wickedness
has an excuse. For how are we to be bandits, let me ask, unless we are wicked?"
Martha was puzzled and shook her
head, thoughtfully. Then she remembered something.
"You can't remain bandits any longer," said she, "because you
are now in America."
"America!" cried the three, together.
"Certainly. You are on Prairie avenue, in
Chicago. Uncle Walter sent you here from Italy in this chest."
The bandits seemed greatly bewildered by this announcement.
Lugui sat down on an old chair with a broken rocker and wiped his forehead with a yellow silk handkerchief. Beni and Victor
fell back upon the chest and looked at her with pale faces and staring eyes.
When he had somewhat recovered himself
"Your Uncle Walter has greatly wronged us," he said, reproachfully. "He has taken us from our beloved
Italy, where bandits are highly respected, and brought us to a strange country where we shall not know whom to rob or how
much to ask for a ransom."
"'Tis so!" said the fat man, slapping his leg sharply.
"And we had won such
fine reputations in Italy!" said Beni, regretfully.
"Perhaps Uncle Walter wanted to reform you," suggested Martha.
"Are there, then, no bandits in Chicago?" asked Victor.
"Well," replied the girl, blushing in her turn,
"we do not call them bandits."
"Then what shall we do for a living?" inquired Beni, despairingly.
great deal can be done in a big American city," said the child. "My father is a lawyer" (the bandits shuddered), "and my mother's
cousin is a police inspector."
"Ah," said Victor, "that is a good employment. The police need to be inspected,
especially in Italy."
"Everywhere!" added Beni.
The CAPTURE of FATHER TIME, American Fairy Tales, by L. Frank Baum
Jim was the son of a cowboy, and lived on the broad plains of Arizona. His father had
trained him to lasso a bronco or a young bull with perfect accuracy, and had Jim possessed the strength to back up his skill
he would have been as good a cowboy as any in all Arizona.
When he was twelve years old he made his first visit
to the east, where Uncle Charles, his father's brother, lived. Of course Jim took his lasso with him, for he was proud of
his skill in casting it, and wanted to show his cousins what a cowboy could do.
At first the city boys and girls
were much interested in watching Jim lasso posts and fence pickets, but they soon tired of it, and even Jim decided it was
not the right sort of sport for cities.
But one day the butcher asked Jim to ride one of his horses into the country,
to a pasture that had been engaged, and Jim eagerly consented. He had been longing for a horseback ride, and to make it seem
like old times he took his lasso with him.
He rode through the streets demurely enough, but on reaching the open
country roads his spirits broke forth into wild jubilation, and, urging the butcher's horse to full gallop, he dashed away
in true cowboy fashion.
Then he wanted still more liberty, and letting down the bars that led into a big field
he began riding over the meadow and throwing his lasso at imaginary cattle, while he yelled and whooped to his heart's content.
Suddenly, on making a long cast with his lasso, the loop caught upon something and rested about three feet from the
ground, while the rope drew taut and nearly pulled Jim from his horse.
This was unexpected. More than that, it
was wonderful; for the field seemed bare of even a stump. Jim's eyes grew big with amazement, but he knew he had caught something
when a voice cried out:
"Here, let go! Let go, I say! Can't you see what you've done?"
Jim couldn't see, nor did he intend to let go until he found out what was holding the loop of the lasso. So he resorted to
an old trick his father had taught him and, putting the butcher's horse to a run, began riding in a circle around the spot
where his lasso had caught.
As he thus drew nearer and nearer his quarry he saw the rope coil up, yet it looked
to be coiling over nothing but air. One end of the lasso was made fast to a ring in the saddle, and when the rope was almost
wound up and the horse began to pull away and snort with fear, Jim dismounted. Holding the reins of the bridle in one hand,
he followed the rope, and an instant later saw an old man caught fast in the coils of the lasso.
His head was bald
and uncovered, but long white whiskers grew down to his waist. About his body was thrown a loose robe of fine white linen.
In one hand he bore a great scythe, and beneath the other arm he carried an hourglass.
While Jim gazed wonderingly
upon him, this venerable old man spoke in an angry voice:
"Now, then--get that rope off as fast as you can!
You've brought everything on earth to a standstill by your foolishness! Well--what are you staring at? Don't you know who
"No," said Jim, stupidly.
"Well, I'm Time--Father Time! Now, make haste and
set me free--if you want the world to run properly."
"How did I happen to catch you?" asked Jim,
without making a move to release his captive.
"I don't know. I've never been caught before," growled
Father Time. "But I suppose it was because you were foolishly throwing your lasso at nothing."
didn't see you," said Jim.
"Of course you didn't. I'm invisible to the eyes of human beings unless they
get within three feet of me, and I take care to keep more than that distance away from them. That's why I was crossing this
field, where I supposed no one would be. And I should have been perfectly safe had it not been for your beastly lasso. Now,
then," he added, crossly, "are you going to get that rope off?"
"Why should I?" asked
"Because everything in the world stopped moving the moment you caught me. I don't suppose you want to
make an end of all business and pleasure, and war and love, and misery and ambition and everything else, do you? Not a watch
has ticked since you tied me up here like a mummy!"
Jim laughed. It really was funny to see the old man wound
round and round with coils of rope from his knees up to his chin.
"It'll do you good to rest," said the
boy. "From all I've heard you lead a rather busy life."
"Indeed I do," replied Father Time,
with a sigh. "I'm due in Kamchatka this very minute. And to think one small boy is upsetting all my regular habits!"
"Too bad!" said Jim, with a grin. "But since the world has stopped anyhow, it won't matter if it takes
a little longer recess. As soon as I let you go Time will fly again. Where are your wings?"
any," answered the old man. "That is a story cooked up by some one who never saw me. As a matter of fact, I move
"I see, you take your time," remarked the boy. "What do you use that scythe
"To mow down the people," said the ancient one. "Every time I swing my scythe some one
"Then I ought to win a life-saving medal by keeping you tied up," said Jim. "Some folks
will live this much longer."
"But they won't know it," said Father Time, with a sad smile; "so
it will do them no good. You may as well untie me at once."
"No," said Jim, with a determined air.
"I may never capture you again; so I'll hold you for awhile and see how the world wags without you."
he swung the old man, bound as he was, upon the back of the butcher's horse, and, getting into the saddle himself, started
back toward town, one hand holding his prisoner and the other guiding the reins.
When he reached the road his eye
fell on a strange tableau. A horse and buggy stood in the middle of the road, the horse in the act of trotting, with his head
held high and two legs in the air, but perfectly motionless. In the buggy a man and a woman were seated; but had they been
turned into stone they could not have been more still and stiff.
"There's no Time for them!" sighed the
old man. "Won't you let me go now?"
"Not yet," replied the boy.
He rode on until
he reached the city, where all the people stood in exactly the same positions they were in when Jim lassoed Father Time. Stopping
in front of a big dry goods store, the boy hitched his horse and went in. The clerks were measuring out goods and showing
patterns to the rows of customers in front of them, but everyone seemed suddenly to have become a statue.
was something very unpleasant in this scene, and a cold shiver began to run up and down Jim's back; so he hurried out again.
On the edge of the sidewalk sat a poor, crippled beggar, holding out his hat, and beside him stood a prosperous-looking
gentleman who was about to drop a penny into the beggar's hat. Jim knew this gentleman to be very rich but rather stingy,
so he ventured to run his hand into the man's pocket and take out his purse, in which was a $20 gold piece. This glittering
coin he put in the gentleman's fingers instead of the penny and then restored the purse to the rich man's pocket.
"That donation will surprise him when he comes to life," thought the boy.
He mounted the horse again
and rode up the street. As he passed the shop of his friend, the butcher, he noticed several pieces of meat hanging outside.
"I'm afraid that meat'll spoil," he remarked.
"It takes Time to spoil meat," answered
the old man.
This struck Jim as being queer, but true.
"It seems Time meddles with everything,"
"Yes; you've made a prisoner of the most important personage in the world," groaned the old
man; "and you haven't enough sense to let him go again."
Jim did not reply, and soon they came to his
uncle's house, where he again dismounted. The street was filled with teams and people, but all were motionless. His two little
cousins were just coming out the gate on their way to school, with their books and slates underneath their arms; so Jim had
to jump over the fence to avoid knocking them down.
In the front room sat his aunt, reading her Bible. She was
just turning a page when Time stopped. In the dining-room was his uncle, finishing his luncheon. His mouth was open and his
fork poised just before it, while his eyes were fixed upon the newspaper folded beside him.
THE DUMMY THAT LIVED, American Fairy Tales, by L. Frank Baum
In all Fairyland there is no more mischievous a person than Tanko-Mankie the Yellow
Ryl. He flew through the city one afternoon--quite invisible to moral eyes, but seeing everything himself--and noticed a figure
of a wax lady standing behind the big plate glass window of Mr. Floman's department store.
The wax lady was beautifully
dressed, and extended in her stiff left hand was a card bearing the words:
This Stylish Costume
(Imported from Paris)
Former Price, $20,
REDUCED TO ONLY $19.98."
This impressive announcement
had drawn before the window a crowd of
women shoppers, who stood looking at the wax lady with critical eyes.
Tanko-Mankie laughed to himself the low, gurgling little laugh that always means mischief. Then he flew close to the wax
figure and breathed twice upon its forehead.
From that instant the dummy began to live, but so dazed and astonished
was she at the unexpected sensation that she continued to stand stupidly staring at the women outside and holding out the
placard as before.
The ryl laughed again and flew away. Anyone but Tanko-Mankie would have remained to help the
wax lady out of the troubles that were sure to overtake her; but this naughty elf thought it rare fun to turn the inexperienced
lady loose in a cold and heartless world and leave her to shift for herself.
Fortunately it was almost six o'clock
when the dummy first realized that she was alive, and before she had collected her new thoughts and decided what to do a man
came around and drew down all the window shades, shutting off the view from the curious shoppers.
Then the clerks
and cashiers and floorwalkers and cash girls went home and the store was closed for the night, although the sweepers and scrubbers
remained to clean the floors for the following day.
The window inhabited by the wax lady was boxed in, like a little
room, one small door being left at the side for the window-trimmer to creep in and out of. So the scrubbers never noticed
that the dummy, when left to herself, dropped the placard to the floor and sat down upon a pile of silks to wonder who she
was, where she was, and how she happened to be alive.
For you must consider, dear reader, that in spite of her
size and her rich costume, in spite of her pink cheeks and fluffy yellow hair, this lady was very young--no older, in reality,
than a baby born but half an hour. All she knew of the world was contained in the glimpse she had secured of the busy street
facing her window; all she knew of people lay in the actions of the group of women which had stood before her on the other
side of the window pane and criticised the fit of her dress or remarked upon its stylish
had little enough to think about, and her thoughts moved somewhat slowly; yet one thing she really decided upon, and that
was not to remain in the window and be insolently stared at by a lot of women who were not nearly so handsome or well dressed
By the time she reached this important conclusion, it was after midnight; but dim lights were burning
in the big, deserted store, so she crept through the door of her window and walked down the long aisles, pausing now and then
to look with much curiosity at the wealth of finery confronting her on every side.
When she came to the glass cases
filled with trimmed hats she remembered having seen upon the heads of the women in the street similar creations. So she selected
one that suited her fancy and placed it carefully upon her yellow locks. I won't attempt to explain what instinct it was that
made her glance into a near-by mirror to see if the hat was straight, but this she certainly did. It didn't correspond with
her dress very well, but the poor thing was too young to have much taste in matching colors.
When she reached the
glove counter she remembered that gloves were also worn by the women she had seen. She took a pair from the case and tried
to fit them upon her stiff, wax-coated fingers; but the gloves were too small and ripped in the seams. Then she tried another
pair, and several others, as well; but hours passed before she finally succeeded in getting her hands covered with a pair
of pea-green kids.
Next she selected a parasol from a large and varied assortment in the rear of the store. Not
that she had any idea what it was used for; but other ladies carried such things, so she also would have one.
she again examined herself critically in the mirror she decided her outfit was now complete, and to her inexperienced eyes
there was no perceptible difference between her and the women who had stood outside the window. Whereupon she tried to leave
the store, but found every door fast locked.
The wax lady was in no hurry. She inherited patience from her previous
existence. Just to be alive and to wear beautiful clothes was sufficient enjoyment for her at present. So she sat down upon
a stool and waited quietly until daylight.
When the janitor unlocked the door in the morning the wax lady swept
past him and walked with stiff but stately strides down the street. The poor fellow was so completely whuckered at seeing
the well-known wax lady leave her window and march away from the store that he fell over in a heap and only saved himself
from fainting by striking his funny bone against the doorstep. When he recovered his wits she had turned the corner and disappeared.
The wax lady's immature mind had reasoned that, since she had come to life, her evident duty was to mix with the world
and do whatever other folks did. She could not realize how different she was from people of flesh and blood; nor did she know
she was the first dummy that had ever lived, or that she owed her unique experience to Tanko-Mankie's love of mischief. So
ignorance gave her a confidence in herself that she was not justly entitled to.
It was yet early in the day, and
the few people she met were hurrying along the streets. Many of them turned into restaurants and eating houses, and following
their example the wax lady also entered one and sat upon a stool before a lunch counter.
"Coffee 'n' rolls!" said
a shop girl on the next stool.
"Coffee 'n' rolls!" repeated the dummy, and soon the waiter placed them before her.
Of course she had no appetite, as her constitution, being mostly wood, did not require food; but she watched the shop girl,
and saw her put the coffee to her mouth and drink it. Therefore the wax lady did the same, and the next instant was surprised
to feel the hot liquid trickling out between her wooden ribs. The coffee also blistered her wax lips, and so disagreeable
was the experience that she arose and left the restaurant, paying no attention to the demands of the waiter for "20 cents,
mum." Not that she intended to defraud him, but the poor creature had no idea what
he meant by "20 cents, mum."
As she came out she met the window trimmer at Floman's store. The man was rather near-sighted, but seeing something familiar
in the lady's features he politely raised his hat. The wax lady also raised her hat, thinking it the proper thing to do, and
the man hurried away with a horrified face.
Then a woman touched her arm and said:
"Beg pardon, ma'am;
but there's a price-mark hanging on your dress behind."
"Yes, I know," replied the wax lady, stiffly; "it was originally
$20, but it's been reduced to $19.98."
The woman looked surprised at such indifference and walked on. Some
carriages were standing at the edge of the sidewalk, and seeing the dummy hesitate a driver approached her and touched his
"Cab, ma'am?" he asked.
"No," said she, misunderstanding him; "I'm wax."
"Oh!" he exclaimed,
and looked after her wonderingly.
"Here's yer mornin' paper!" yelled a newsboy.
"Mine, did you say?"
"Sure! Chronicle, 'Quirer, R'public 'n' 'Spatch! Wot'll ye 'ave?"
"What are they for?" inquired
the wax lady, simply.
"W'y, ter read, o' course. All the news, you know."
She shook her head and glanced
at a paper.
"It looks all speckled and mixed up," she said. "I'm afraid I can't read."
"Ever ben to
school?" asked the boy, becoming interested.
"No; what's school?" she inquired.
The boy gave her an
"Say!" he cried, "ye'r just a dummy, that's wot ye are!" and ran away to seek a more promising
"I wonder that he means," thought the poor lady. "Am I really different in some way from all the others?
I look like them, certainly; and I try to act like them; yet that boy called me a dummy and seemed to think I acted queerly."
This idea worried her a little, but she walked on to the corner, where she noticed a street car stop to let some people
on. The wax lady, still determined to do as others did, also boarded the car and sat down quietly in a corner.
riding a few blocks the conductor approached her and said:
"What's that?" she inquired,
"Your fare!" said the man, impatiently.
She stared at him stupidly, trying to think what
"Then you could
do other things," continued Martha, encouragingly. "You could be motor men on trolley cars, or clerks in a department
store. Some people even become aldermen to earn a living."
The bandits shook their heads sadly.
are not fitted for such work," said Victor. "Our business is to rob."
Martha tried to think.
"It is rather hard to get positions in the gas office," she said, "but you might become politicians."
"No!" cried Beni, with sudden fierceness; "we must not abandon our high calling. Bandits we have always
been, and bandits we must remain!"
"'Tis so!" agreed the fat man.
"Even in Chicago
there must be people to rob," remarked Victor, with cheerfulness.
Martha was distressed.
think they have all been robbed," she objected.
"Then we can rob the robbers, for we have experience
and talent beyond the ordinary," said Beni.
"Oh, dear; oh, dear!" moaned the girl; "why did
Uncle Walter ever send you here in this chest?"
The bandits became interested.
"That is what
we should like to know," declared Victor, eagerly.
"But no one will ever know, for Uncle Walter was lost
while hunting elephants in Africa," she continued, with conviction.
"Then we must accept our fate and
rob to the best of our ability," said Victor. "So long as we are faithful to our beloved profession we need not
"'Tis so!" cried the fat man.
"Brothers! we will begin now. Let us
rob the house we are in."
"Good!" shouted the others and sprang to their feet.
threateningly upon the child.
"Remain here!" he commanded. "If you stir one step your blood will
be on your own head!" Then he added, in a gentler voice: "Don't be afraid; that's the way all bandits talk to their
captives. But of course we wouldn't hurt a young lady under any circumstances."
"Of course not,"
The fat man drew a big knife from his belt and flourished it about his head.
he ejaculated, fiercely.
"S'bananas!" cried Beni, in a terrible voice.
our foes!" hissed Victor.
And then the three bent themselves nearly double and crept stealthily down the stairway
with cocked pistols in their hands and glittering knives between their teeth, leaving Martha trembling with fear and too horrified
to even cry for help.
How long she remained alone in the attic she never knew, but finally she heard the catlike
tread of the returning bandits and saw them coming up the stairs in single file.
All bore heavy loads of plunder
in their arms, and Lugui was balancing a mince pie on the top of a pile of her mother's best evening dresses. Victor came
next with an armful of bric-a-brac, a brass candelabra and the parlor clock. Beni had the family Bible, the basket of silverware
from the sideboard, a copper kettle and papa's fur overcoat.
"Oh, joy!" said Victor, putting down his
load; "it is pleasant to rob once more."
"Oh, ecstacy!" said Beni; but he let the kettle drop
on his toe and immediately began dancing around in anguish, while he muttered queer
words in the Italian language.
"We have much wealth," continued Victor, holding the mince pie while Lugui added his spoils to the heap;
"and all from one house! This America must be a rich place."
With a dagger he then cut himself a piece
of the pie and handed the remainder to his comrades. Whereupon all three sat upon the floor and consumed the pie while Martha
looked on sadly.
"We should have a cave," remarked Beni; "for we must store our plunder in a safe
place. Can you tell us of a secret cave?" he asked Martha.
"There's a Mammoth cave," she answered,
"but it's in Kentucky. You would be obliged to ride on the cars a long time to get there."
bandits looked thoughtful and munched their pie silently, but the next moment they were startled by the ringing of the electric
doorbell, which was heard plainly even in the remote attic.
"What's that?" demanded Victor, in a hoarse
voice, as the three scrambled to their feet with drawn daggers.
Martha ran to the window and saw it was only the
postman, who had dropped a letter in the box and gone away again. But the incident gave her an idea of how to get rid of her
troublesome bandits, so she began wringing her hands as if in great distress and cried out:
"It's the police!"
The robbers looked at one another with genuine alarm, and Lugui asked, tremblingly:
"Are there many
"A hundred and twelve!" exclaimed Martha, after pretending to count them.
we are lost!" declared Beni; "for we could never fight so many and live."
"Are they armed?"
inquired Victor, who was shivering as if cold.
"Oh, yes," said she. "They have guns and swords and
pistols and axes and--and--"
"And what?" demanded Lugui.
The three wicked ones groaned aloud and Beni said, in a hollow voice:
"I hope they will kill us quickly
and not put us to the torture. I have been told these Americans are painted Indians, who are bloodthirsty and terrible."
"'Tis so!" gasped the fat man, with a shudder.
Suddenly Martha turned from the window.
"You are my friends, are you not?" she asked.
"We are devoted!" answered Victor.
"We adore you!" cried Beni.
"We would die for you!" added Lugui, thinking he was about to
"Then I will save you," said the girl.
"How?" asked the three, with
"Get back into the chest," she said. "I will then close the lid, so they will be unable
to find you."
They looked around the room in a dazed and irresolute way, but she exclaimed:
must be quick! They will soon be here to arrest you."
Then Lugui sprang into the chest and lay fat upon the
bottom. Beni tumbled in next and packed himself in the back side. Victor followed after pausing to kiss her hand to the girl
in a graceful manner.
Then Martha ran up to press down the lid, but could not make it catch.
must squeeze down," she said to them.
"I am doing my best, miss," said
Victor, who was nearest the top; "but although we fitted in very nicely before, the chest now seems rather small for
"'Tis so!" came the muffled voice of the fat man from the bottom.
"I know what
takes up the room," said Beni.
"What?" inquired Victor, anxiously.
"'Tis so!" came from the bottom, in faint accents.
Then Martha sat upon the
lid and pressed it down with all her weight. To her great delight the lock caught, and, springing down, she exerted all her
strength and turned the key.
* * * * *
This story should teach us not to interfere
in matters that do not concern us. For had Martha refrained from opening Uncle Walter's mysterious chest she would not have
been obliged to carry downstairs all the plunder the robbers had brought into the attic.
Jim helped himself
to his uncle's pie, and while he ate it he walked out to his prisoner.
"There's one thing I don't understand,"
"What's that?" asked Father Time.
"Why is it that I'm able to move around while
everyone else is--is--froze up?"
"That is because I'm your prisoner," answeredthe other. "You
can do anything you wish with Time now. But unless you are careful you'll do something you will be sorry for."
Jim threw the crust of his pie at a bird that was suspended in the air, where it had been flying when Time stopped.
"Anyway," he laughed, "I'm living longer than anyone else. No one will ever be able to catch up with me again."
"Each life has its allotted span," said the old man. "When you have lived your proper time my scythe
will mow you down."
"I forgot your scythe," said Jim, thoughtfully.
Then a spirit of
mischief came into the boy's head, for he happened to think that the present opportunity to have fun would never occur again.
He tied Father Time to his uncle's hitching post, that he might not escape, and then crossed the road to the corner grocery.
The grocer had scolded Jim that very morning for stepping into a basket of turnips by accident. So the boy went to
the back end of the grocery and turned on the faucet of the molasses barrel.
"That'll make a nice mess when
Time starts the molasses running all over the floor," said Jim, with a laugh.
A little further down the street
was a barber shop, and sitting in the barber's chair Jim saw the man that all the boys declared was the "meanest man
in town." He certainly did not like the boys and the boys knew it. The barber was in the act of shampooing this person
when Time was captured. Jim ran to the drug store, and, getting a bottle of mucilage, he returned and poured it over the ruffled
hair of the unpopular citizen.
"That'll probably surprise him when he wakes up," thought Jim.
Near by was the schoolhouse. Jim entered it and found that only a few of the pupils were assembled. But the teacher sat
at his desk, stern and frowning as usual.
Taking a piece of chalk, Jim marked upon the blackboard in big letters
the following words:
"Every scholar is requested to yell the minute he enters the room. He will also please
throw his books at the teacher's head. Signed, Prof. Sharpe."
"That ought to raise a nice rumpus,"
murmured the mischiefmaker, as he walked away.
On the corner stood Policeman Mulligan, talking with old Miss Scrapple,
the worst gossip in town, who always delighted in saying something disagreeable about her neighbors. Jim thought this opportunity
was too good to lose. So he took off the policeman's cap and brass-buttoned coat and put them on Miss Scrapple, while the
lady's feathered and ribboned hat he placed jauntily upon the policeman's head.
The effect was so comical that
the boy laughed aloud, and as a good many people were standing near the corner Jim decided that Miss Scrapple and Officer
Mulligan would create a sensation when Time started upon his travels.
Then the young cowboy remembered his prisoner,
and, walking back to
the hitching post, he came within three feet of it and saw Father Time still standing patiently
within the toils of the lasso. He looked angry and annoyed, however, and growled out:
"Well, when do you intend
to release me?"
"I've been thinking about that ugly scythe of yours," said Jim.
about it?" asked Father Time.
"Perhaps if I let you go you'll swing it at me the first thing, to be revenged,"
replied the boy.
Father Time gave him a severe look, but said:
"I've known boys for thousands of
years, and of course I know they're mischievous and reckless. But I like boys, because they grow up to be men and people my
world. Now, if a man had caught me by accident, as you did, I could have scared him into letting me go instantly; but boys
are harder to scare. I don't know as I blame you. I was a boy myself, long ago, when the world was new. But surely you've
had enough fun with me by this time, and now I hope you'll show the respect that is due to old age. Let me go, and in
I will promise to forget all about my capture. The incident won't do much harm, anyway, for no one will ever know that Time
has halted the last three hours or so."
"All right," said Jim, cheerfully, "since you've promised
not to mow me down, I'll let you go." But he had a notion some people in the town would suspect Time had stopped when
they returned to life.
He carefully unwound the rope from the old man, who, when he was free, at once shouldered
his scythe, rearranged his white robe and nodded farewell.
The next moment he had disappeared, and with a rustle
and rumble and roar of activity the world came to life again and jogged along as it always had before.
up his lasso, mounted the butcher's horse and rode slowly down the street.
Loud screams came from the corner, where
a great crowd of people quickly assembled. From his seat on the horse Jim saw Miss Scrapple, attired in the policeman's uniform,
angrily shaking her fists in Mulligan's face, while the officer was furiously stamping upon the lady's hat, which he had torn
from his own head amidst the jeers of the crowd.
As he rode past the schoolhouse he heard a tremendous chorus of
yells, and knew Prof. Sharpe was having a hard time to quell the riot caused by the sign on the blackboard.
the window of the barber shop he saw the "mean man" frantically belaboring the barber with a hair brush, while his
hair stood up stiff as bayonets in all directions. And the grocer ran out of his door and yelled "Fire!" while his
shoes left a track of molasses wherever he stepped.
Jim's heart was filled with joy. He was fairly reveling in
excitement he had caused when some one caught his leg and pulled him
from the horse.
ye doin' hear, ye rascal?" cried the butcher, angrily; "didn't ye promise to put that beast inter Plympton's pasture?
An' now I find ye ridin' the poor nag around like a gentleman o' leisure!"
"That's a fact," said
Jim, with surprise; "I clean forgot about the horse!"
* * * * *
Fairy Tale should teach us the supreme importance of Time and the folly of trying to stop it. For should you succeed,
as Jim did, in bringing Time to a standstill, the world would soon become a dreary place and life decidedly unpleasant.
growled the conductor, "either pay up or get off!"
Still she did not understand, and he grabbed her rudely
by the arm and lifted her to her feet. But when his hand came in contact with the hard wood of which her arm was made the
fellow was filled with surprise. He stooped down and peered into her face, and, seeing it was wax instead of flesh, he gave
a yell of fear and jumped from the car, running as if he had seen a ghost.
At this the other passengers also yelled
and sprang from the car, fearing a collision; and the motorman, knowing something was wrong, followed suit. The wax lady,
seeing the others run, jumped from the car last of all, and stepped in front of another car coming at full speed from the
She heard cries of fear and of warning on all sides, but before she understood her danger she
was knocked down and dragged for half a block.
When the car was brought to a stop a policeman reached down and
pulled her from under the wheels. Her dress was badly torn and soiled. Her left ear was entirely gone, and the left side of
her head was caved in; but she quickly scrambled to her feet and asked for her hat. This a gentleman had already picked up,
and when the policeman handed it to her and noticed the great hole in her head and the hollow place it disclosed, the poor
fellow trembled so frightfully that his knees actually knocked together.
"Why--why, ma'am, you're killed!"
"What does it mean to be killed?" asked the wax lady.
The policeman shuddered and
wiped the perspiration from his forehead.
"You're it!" he answered, with a groan.
that had collected were looking upon the lady wonderingly, and a middle-aged gentleman now exclaimed:
"Wax!" echoed the policeman.
"Certainly. She's one of those dummies
they put in the windows," declared the middle-aged man.
The people who had collected shouted: "You're
right!" "That's what she is!" "She's a dummy!"
"Are you?" inquired the policeman,
The wax lady did not reply. She began to fear she was getting into trouble, and the staring crowd seemed
to embarrass her.
Suddenly a bootblack attempted to solve the problem by saying: "You guys is all wrong! Can
a dummy talk? Can a dummy walk? Can a dummy live?"
"Hush!" murmured the policeman. "Look here!"
and he pointed to the hold in the lady's head. The newsboy looked, turned pale and whistled to keep himself from shivering.
A second policeman now arrived, and after a brief conference it was decided to take the strange creature to headquarters.
So they called a hurry-up wagon, and the damaged wax lady was helped inside and driven to the police station. There the policeman
locked her in a cell and hastened to tell Inspector Mugg their wonderful story.
Inspector Mugg had just eaten a
poor breakfast, and was not in a pleasant mood; so he roared and stormed at the unlucky policemen, saying they were themselves
dummies to bring such a fairy tale to a man of sense. He also hinted that they had been guilty of intemperance.
policemen tried to explain, but Inspector Mugg would not listen; and while they were still disputing in rushed Mr. Floman,
the owner of the department store.
"I want a dozen detectives, at once, inspector!" he cried.
"What for?" demanded Mugg.
"One of the wax ladies has escaped from my store and eloped with a
$19.98 costume, a $4.23 hat, a $2.19 parasol and a 76-cent pair of gloves, and I want her arrested!"
While he paused for breath the inspector glared at him in amazement.
"Is everybody going crazy at the same
time?" he inquired, sarcastically. "How could a wax dummy run away?"
"I don't know; but she
did. When my janitor opened the door this morning he saw her run out."
"Why didn't he stop her?"
"He was too frightened. But she's stolen my property, your honor, and I want her arrested!"
declared the storekeeper.
The inspector thought for a moment.
"You wouldn't be able to prosecute
her," he said, "for there's no law against dummies stealing."
Mr. Floman sighed bitterly.
"Am I to lose that $19.98 costume and the $4.25 hat and--"
"By no means," interrupted
Inspector Mugg. "The police of this city are ever prompt to act in defense of our worthy citizens. We have already arrested
the wax lady, and she is locked up in cell No. 16. You may go there and recover your property, if you wish, but before you
prosecute her for stealing you'd better hunt up a law that applies to dummies."
"All I want," said
Mr. Floman, "is that $19.98 costume and--"
"Come along!" interrupted the policeman. "I'll
take you to the cell."
But when they entered No. 16 they found only a lifeless dummy lying prone upon the
floor. Its wax was cracked and blistered, its head was badly damaged, and the bargain costume was dusty, soiled and much bedraggled.
For the mischief-loving Tanko-Mankie had flown by and breathed once more upon the poor wax lady, and in that instant her brief
"It's just as I thought," said Inspector Mugg, leaning back in his chair contentedly. "I
knew all the time the thing was a fake. It seems sometimes as though the whole world would go crazy if there wasn't some level-headed
man around to bring 'em to their senses. Dummies are wood an' wax, an' that's all there is of 'em."
may be the rule," whispered the policeman to himself, "but this one were a dummy as lived!"
L. Frank Baum, American Fairy Tales, Wizard of
L. Frank Baum, American Fairy Tales, Wizard of
L. Frank Baum, American Fairy Tales, Wizard of