shall I do?” she asked sorrowfully.
“Turn her out, Gardener, with the others!” commanded the Roses. “We will have no Ruler until a man-rose—a King—is ripe enough to pick.”
“Very well,” said the Gardener meekly. “You must excuse me, my dear Shaggy, for opposing your wishes, but you and the others, including Ozga, must get out of Rose Kingdom immediately, if not before.”
“Don’t you love me, Gardy?” asked Shaggy, carelessly displaying the Magnet.
“I do. I dote on thee!” answered the Gardener earnestly; “but no true man will neglect his duty for the sake of love. My duty is to drive you out, so—out you go!”
With this he seized a garden fork and began jabbing it at the strangers, in order to force them to leave. Hank the mule was not afraid of the fork and when he got his heels near to the Gardener the man fell back to avoid a kick.
But now the Roses crowded around the outcasts and it was soon discovered that beneath their draperies of green leaves were many sharp thorns which were more dangerous than Hank’s heels. Neither Betsy nor Ozga nor Shaggy nor the mule cared to brave those thorns and when they pressed away from them they found themselves slowly driven through the garden door into the greenhouse. From there they were forced out at the entrance and so through the territory of the flower-strewn Rose Kingdom, which was not of very great extent.
The Rose Princess was sobbing bitterly; Betsy was indignant and angry; Hank uttered defiant “Hee-haws” and the Shaggy Man whistled softly to himself.
The boundary of the Rose Kingdom was a deep gulf, but there was a drawbridge in one place and this the Royal Gardener let down until the outcasts had passed over it. Then he drew it up again and returned with his Roses to the greenhouse, leaving the four queerly assorted comrades to wander into the bleak and unknown country that lay beyond.
“I don’t mind, much,” remarked Shaggy, as he led the way over the stony, barren ground. “I’ve got to search for my long-lost little brother, anyhow, so it won’t matter where I go.”
“Hank and I will help you find your brother,” said Betsy in her most cheerful voice. “I’m so far away from home now that I don’t s’pose I’ll ever find my way back; and, to tell the truth, it’s more fun traveling around and having adventures than sticking at home. Don’t you think so, Hank?”
“Hee-haw!” said Hank, and the Shaggy Man thanked them both.
“For my part,” said Princess Ozga of Roseland, with a gentle sigh, “I must remain forever exiled from my Kingdom. So I, too, will be glad to help the Shaggy Man find his lost brother.”
“That’s very kind of you, ma’am,” said Shaggy. “But unless I can find the underground cavern of Ruggedo, the Metal Monarch, I shall never find poor brother.”
(This King was formerly named “Roquat,” but after he drank of the “Waters of Oblivion” he forgot his own name and had to take another.)
“Doesn’t anyone know where it is?” inquired Betsy.
“Some one must know, of course,” was Shaggy’s reply. “But we are not the ones. The only way to succeed is for us to keep going until we find a person who can direct us to Ruggedo’s cavern.”
“We may find it ourselves, without any help,” suggested Betsy. “Who knows?”
“No one knows that, except the person who’s writing this story,” said Shaggy. “But we won’t find anything—not even supper—unless we travel on. Here’s a path. Let’s take it and see where it leads to.”
7. Polychrome’s Pitiful Plight
The Rain King got too much water in his basin and spilled some over the brim. That made it rain in a certain part of the country—a real hard shower, for a time—and sent the Rainbow scampering to the place to show the gorgeous colors of his glorious bow as soon as the mist of rain had passed and the sky was clear.
The coming of the Rainbow is always a joyous event to earth folk, yet few have ever seen it close by. Usually the Rainbow is so far distant that you can observe its splendid hues but dimly, and that is why we seldom catch sight of the dancing Daughters of the Rainbow.
In the barren country where the rain had just fallen there appeared to be no human beings at all; but the Rainbow appeared, just the same, and dancing gayly upon its arch were the Rainbow’s Daughters, led by the fairylike Polychrome, who is so dainty and beautiful that no girl has ever quite equalled her in loveliness.
Polychrome was in a merry mood and danced down the arch of the bow to the ground, daring her sisters to follow her. Laughing and gleeful, they also touched the ground with their twinkling feet; but all the Daughters of the Rainbow knew that this was a dangerous pastime, so they quickly climbed upon their bow again.
All but Polychrome. Though the sweetest and merriest of them all, she was likewise the most reckless. Moreover, it was an unusual sensation to pat the cold, damp earth with her rosy toes. Before she realized it the bow had lifted and disappeared in the billowy blue sky, and here was Polychrome standing helpless upon a rock, her gauzy draperies floating about her like brilliant cobwebs and not a soul—fairy or mortal—to help her regain her lost bow!
“Dear me!” she exclaimed, a frown passing across her pretty face, “I’m caught again. This is the second time my carelessness has left me on earth while my sisters returned to our Sky Palaces. The first time I enjoyed some pleasant adventures, but this is a lonely, forsaken country and I shall be very unhappy until my Rainbow comes again and I can climb aboard. Let me think what is best to be done.”
She crouched low upon the flat rock, drew her draperies about her and bowed her head.
It was in this position that Betsy Bobbin spied Polychrome as she came along the stony path, followed by Hank, the Princess and Shaggy. At once the girl ran up to the radiant Daughter of the Rainbow and exclaimed:
“Oh, what a lovely, lovely creature!”
Polychrome raised her golden head. There were tears in her blue eyes.
“I’m the most miserable girl in the whole world!” she sobbed.
The others gathered around her.
“Tell us your troubles, pretty one,” urged the Princess.
“I—I’ve lost my bow!” wailed Polychrome.
“Take me, my dear,” said Shaggy Man in a sympathetic tone, thinking she meant “beau” instead of “bow.”
“I don’t want you!” cried Polychrome, stamping her foot imperiously; “I want my Rainbow.”
“Oh; that’s different,” said Shaggy. “But try to forget it. When I was young I used to cry for the Rainbow myself, but I couldn’t have it. Looks as if you couldn’t have it, either; so please don’t cry.”
Polychrome looked at him reproachfully.
“I
