frightened, too.
“Stop!” screamed the girl. “Let me down!” But the giant paid no attention. “Who are you, and where are you taking me?” she continued; but the giant said not a word. Close to Dorothy’s ear, however, a voice answered her, saying: “This is the terrible Crinklink, and he has you in his power.”
Dorothy managed to twist her head around and found it was the second button on the jacket—the wolf’s head—which had spoken to her.
“What will Crinklink do with me?” she asked anxiously.
“No one knows. You must wait and see,” replied the wolf.
“Some of his captives he whips,” squeaked the weasel’s head.
“Some he transforms into bugs and other things,” growled the bear’s head.
“Some he enchants, so that they become doorknobs,” sighed the cat’s head.
“Some he makes his slaves—even as we are—and that is the most dreadful fate of all,” added the field-mouse. “As long as Crinklink exists we shall remain buttons, but as there are no more buttonholes on his jacket he will probably make you a slave.”
Dorothy began to wish she had not met Crinklink. Meantime, the giant took such big steps that he soon reached the heart of the hills, where, perched upon the highest peak, stood a log castle. Before this castle he paused to set down Dorothy and Toto, for Crinklink was at present far too large to enter his own doorway. So he made himself grow smaller, until he was about the size of an ordinary man. Then he said to Dorothy, in stern, commanding tones:
“Enter, girl!”
Dorothy obeyed and entered the castle, with Toto at her heels. She found the place to be merely one big room. There was a table and chair of ordinary size near the center, and at one side a wee bed that seemed scarcely big enough for a doll. Everywhere else were dishes—dishes—dishes! They were all soiled, and were piled upon the floor, in all the corners and upon every shelf. Evidently Crinklink had not washed a dish for years, but had cast them aside as he used them.
Dorothy’s captor sat down in the chair and frowned at her.
“You are young and strong, and will make a good dishwasher,” said he.
“Do you mean me to wash all those dishes?” she asked, feeling both indignant and fearful, for such a task would take weeks to accomplish.
“That’s just what I mean,” he retorted. “I need clean dishes, for all I have are soiled, and you’re going to make ‘em clean or get trounced. So get to work and be careful not to break anything. If you smash a dish, the penalty is one lash from my dreadful cat-o’-nine-tails for every piece the dish breaks into,” and here Crinklink displayed a terrible whip that made the little girl shudder.
Dorothy knew how to wash dishes, but she remembered that often she carelessly broke one. In this case, however, a good deal depended on being careful, so she handled the dishes very cautiously.
While she worked, Toto sat by the hearth and growled low at Crinklink, and Crinklink sat in his chair and growled at Dorothy because she moved so slowly. He expected her to break a dish any minute, but as the hours passed away and this did not happen Crinklink began to grow sleepy. It was tiresome watching the girl wash dishes and often he glanced longingly at the tiny bed. Now he began to yawn, and he yawned and yawned until finally he said:
“I’m going to take a nap. But the buttons on my jacket will be wide awake and whenever you break a dish the crash will waken me. As I’m rather sleepy I hope you won’t interrupt my nap by breaking anything for a long time.”
Then Crinklink made himself grow smaller and smaller until he was three inches high and of a size to fit the tiny bed. At once he lay down and fell fast asleep.
Dorothy came close to the buttons and whispered: “Would you really warn Crinklink if I tried to escape?”
“You can’t escape,” growled the bear. “Crinklink would become a giant, and soon overtake you.”
“But you might kill him while he sleeps,” suggested the cat, in a soft voice.
“Oh!” cried Dorothy, drawing back; “I couldn’t poss’bly kill anything—even to save my life.”
But Toto had heard this conversation and was not so particular about killing monsters. Also the little dog knew he must try to save his mistress. In an instant he sprang upon the wee bed and was about to seize the sleeping Crinklink in his jaws when Dorothy heard a loud crash and a heap of dishes fell from the table to the floor. Then the girl saw Toto and the little man rolling on the floor together, like a fuzzy ball, and when the ball stopped rolling, behold! there was Toto wagging his tail joyfully and there sat the little Wizard of Oz, laughing merrily at the expression of surprise on Dorothy’s face.
“Yes, my dear, it’s me,” said he, “and I’ve been playing tricks on you—for your own good. I wanted to prove to you that it is really dangerous for a little girl to wander alone in a fairy country; so I took the form of Crinklink to teach you a lesson. There isn’t any Crinklink, to be sure; but if there had been you’d be severely whipped for breaking all those dishes.”
The Wizard now rose, took off the coat with the button heads, and spread it on the floor, wrong side up. At once there crept from beneath it a bear, a wolf, a cat, a weasel, and a field-mouse, who all rushed from the room and escaped into the mountains.
“Come on, Toto,” said Dorothy; “let’s go back to the Emerald City. You’ve given me a good scare, Wizard,” she added, with dignity, “and p’raps I’ll forgive you, by’n’by; but just now I’m mad to think how easily you fooled me.”
Tiktok and the Nome King
The Nome King was unpleasantly angry. He had carelessly bitten his tongue at breakfast and it still hurt; so he roared and raved and stamped around in his underground palace in a way that rendered him very disagreeable.
It so happened that on this unfortunate day Tiktok, the Clockwork Man, visited the Nome King to ask a favor. Tiktok lived in the Land of Oz, and although he was an active and important person, he was made entirely of metal. Machinery within him, something like the works of a clock, made him move; other machinery made him talk; still other machinery made him think.
Although so cleverly constructed, the Clockwork Man was far from perfect. Three separate keys wound up his motion machinery, his speech works, and his thoughts. One or more of these contrivances was likely to run down at a critical moment, leaving poor Tiktok helpless. Also some of his parts were wearing out, through much use, and just now his thought machinery needed repair. The skillful little Wizard of Oz had tinkered with Tiktok’s thoughts without being able to get them properly regulated, so he had advised the Clockwork Man to go to the Nome King and secure a new set of springs, which would render his thoughts more elastic and responsive.
“Be careful what you say to the Nome King,” warned the Wizard. “He has a bad temper and the least little thing makes him angry.”
Tiktok promised, and the Wizard wound his machinery and set him walking in the direction of the Nome King’s dominions, just
