FANTASTICAL ADVENTURES – L. Frank Baum Edition (Childhood Essentials Library). Лаймен Фрэнк Баум
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you could only admire without loving, since to love such a thing as he was as impossible as to love a sewing-machine or an automobile. Yet Tik-tok was popular with the people of Oz because he was so trustworthy, reliable and true; he was sure to do exactly what he was wound up to do, at all times and in all circumstances. Perhaps it is better to be a machine that does its duty than a flesh-and-blood person who will not, for a dead truth is better than a live falsehood.
About noon the travelers reached a large field of pumpkins—a vegetable quite appropriate to the yellow country of the Winkies—and some of the pumpkins which grew there were of remarkable size. Just before they entered upon this field they saw three little mounds that looked like graves, with a pretty headstone to each one of them.
“What is this?” asked Dorothy, in wonder.
“It’s Jack Pumpkinhead’s private graveyard,” replied the Tin Woodman.
“But I thought nobody ever died in Oz,” she said.
“Nor do they; although if one is bad, he may be condemned and killed by the good citizens,” he answered.
Dorothy ran over to the little graves and read the words engraved upon the tombstones. The first one said:
Here Lies the Mortal Part of JACK PUMPKINHEAD Which Spoiled April 9th.
She then went to the next stone, which read:
Here Lies the Mortal Part of
JACK PUMPKINHEAD Which Spoiled October 2nd.
On the third stone were carved these words:
Here Lies the Mortal Part of JACK PUMPKINHEAD Which Spoiled January 24th.
“Poor Jack!” sighed Dorothy. “I’m sorry he had to die in three parts, for I hoped to see him again.”
“So you shall,” declared the Tin Woodman, “since he is still alive. Come with me to his house, for Jack is now a farmer and lives in this very pumpkin field.”
They walked over to a monstrous big, hollow pumpkin which had a door and windows cut through the rind. There was a stovepipe running through the stem, and six steps had been built leading up to the front door.
They walked up to this door and looked in. Seated on a bench was a man clothed in a spotted shirt, a red vest, and faded blue trousers, whose body was merely sticks of wood, jointed clumsily together. On his neck was set a round, yellow pumpkin, with a face carved on it such as a boy often carves on a jack-lantern.
This queer man was engaged in snapping slippery pumpkin-seeds with his wooden fingers, trying to hit a target on the other side of the room with them. He did not know he had visitors until Dorothy exclaimed:
“Why, it’s Jack Pumpkinhead himself!”
He turned and saw them, and at once came forward to greet the little Kansas girl and Nick Chopper, and to be introduced to their new friends.
Button-Bright was at first rather shy with the quaint Pumpkinhead, but Jack’s face was so jolly and smiling—being carved that way—that the boy soon grew to like him.
“I thought a while ago that you were buried in three parts,” said Dorothy, “but now I see you’re just the same as ever.”
“Not quite the same, my dear, for my mouth is a little more one-sided than it used to be; but pretty nearly the same. I’ve a new head, and this is the fourth one I’ve owned since Ozma first made me and brought me to life by sprinkling me with the Magic Powder.”
“What became of the other heads, Jack?”
“They spoiled and I buried them, for they were not even fit for pies. Each time Ozma has carved me a new head just like the old one, and as my body is by far the largest part of me, I am still Jack Pumpkinhead, no matter how often I change my upper end. Once we had a dreadful time to find another pumpkin, as they were out of season, and so I was obliged to wear my old head a little longer than was strictly healthy. But after this sad experience I resolved to raise pumpkins myself, so as never to be caught again without one handy; and now I have this fine field that you see before you. Some grow pretty big—too big to be used for heads—so I dug out this one and use it for a house.”
“Isn’t it damp?” asked Dorothy.
“Not very. There isn’t much left but the shell, you see, and it will last a long time yet.”
“I think you are brighter than you used to be, Jack,” said the Tin Woodman. “Your last head was a stupid one.”
“The seeds in this one are better,” was the reply.
“Are you going to Ozma’s party?” asked Dorothy.
“Yes,” said he, “I wouldn’t miss it for anything. Ozma’s my parent, you know, because she built my body and carved my pumpkin head. I’ll follow you to the Emerald City tomorrow, where we shall meet again. I can’t go to-day, because I have to plant fresh pumpkin-seeds and water the young vines. But give my love to Ozma, and tell her I’ll be there in time for the jubilation.”
“We will,” she promised; and then they all left him and resumed their journey.
17. The Royal Chariot Arrives
The neat yellow houses of the Winkies were now to be seen standing here and there along the roadway, giving the country a more cheerful and civilized look. They were farmhouses, though, and set far apart; for in the Land of Oz there were no towns or villages except the magnificent Emerald City in its center.
Hedges of evergreen or of yellow roses bordered the broad highway and the farms showed the care of their industrious inhabitants. The nearer the travelers came to the great city the more prosperous the country became, and they crossed many bridges over the sparkling streams and rivulets that watered the lands.
As they walked leisurely along the shaggy man said to the Tin Woodman:
“What sort of a Magic Powder was it that made your friend the Pumpkinhead live?”
“It was called the Powder of Life,” was the answer; “and it was invented by a crooked Sorcerer who lived in the mountains of the North Country. A Witch named Mombi got some of this powder from the crooked Sorcerer and took it home with her. Ozma lived with the Witch then, for it was before she became our Princess, while Mombi had transformed her into the shape of a boy. Well, while Mombi was gone to the crooked Sorcerer’s, the boy made this pumpkinheaded man to amuse himself, and also with the hope of frightening the Witch with it when she returned. But Mombi was not scared, and she sprinkled the Pumpkinhead with her Magic Powder of Life, to see if the Powder would work. Ozma was watching, and saw the Pumpkinhead come to life; so that night she took the pepperbox containing the Powder and ran away with it and with Jack, in search of adventures.
“Next day they found a wooden SawHorse standing by the roadside, and sprinkled it with the Powder. It came to life at once, and Jack Pumpkinhead rode the SawHorse to the Emerald City.”
“What became of the SawHorse, afterward?” asked the shaggy man, much interested in this story.
“Oh, it’s alive yet, and you will probably meet it presently in the Emerald City. Afterward, Ozma used the last of the Powder to bring the Flying Gump to life; but as soon as it had carried her away from her enemies the Gump was taken apart, so it doesn’t exist any more.”
“It’s too bad the Powder of Life was all used up,” remarked the shaggy man; “it would be a handy thing to have around.”
“I am not so sure of that, sir,” answered the Tin Woodman. “A while ago the crooked Sorcerer who invented the Magic Powder fell down a precipice and was killed. All his possessions went to a relative—an old woman named Dyna, who lives in the Emerald City. She