I see,” said the little girl. “You are quite civilized here.”
“Dunkiton,” he replied, “is the center of the world’s highest civilization.”
They came to a house where two youthful donkeys were whitewashing the wall, and Dorothy stopped a moment to watch them. They dipped the ends of their tails, which were much like paintbrushes, into a pail of whitewash, backed up against the house, and wagged their tails right and left until the whitewash was rubbed on the wall, after which they dipped these funny brushes in the pail again and repeated the performance.
“That must be fun,” said Button-Bright.
“No, it’s work,” replied the old donkey; “but we make our youngsters do all the whitewashing, to keep them out of mischief.”
“Don’t they go to school?” asked Dorothy.
“All donkeys are born wise,” was the reply, “so the only school we need is the school of experience. Books are only for those who know nothing, and so are obliged to learn things from other people.”
“In other words, the more stupid one is, the more he thinks he knows,” observed the shaggy man. The grey donkey paid no attention to this speech because he had just stopped before a house which had painted over the doorway a pair of hoofs, with a donkey tail between them and a rude crown and sceptre above.
“I’ll see if his magnificent Majesty King Kik-a-bray is at home,” said he. He lifted his head and called “Whee-haw! whee-haw! whee-haw!” three times, in a shocking voice, turning about and kicking with his heels against the panel of the door. For a time there was no reply; then the door opened far enough to permit a donkey’s head to stick out and look at them.
It was a white head, with big, awful ears and round, solemn eyes.
“Have the foxes gone?” it asked, in a trembling voice.
“They haven’t been here, most stupendous Majesty,” replied the grey one. “The new arrivals prove to be travelers of distinction.”
“Oh,” said the King, in a relieved tone of voice. “Let them come in.”
He opened the door wide, and the party marched into a big room, which, Dorothy thought, looked quite unlike a king’s palace. There were mats of woven grasses on the floor and the place was clean and neat; but his Majesty had no other furniture at all—perhaps because he didn’t need it. He squatted down in the center of the room and a little brown donkey ran and brought a big gold crown which it placed on the monarch’s head, and a golden staff with a jeweled ball at the end of it, which the King held between his front hoofs as he sat upright.
“Now then,” said his Majesty, waving his long ears gently to and fro, “tell me why you are here, and what you expect me to do for you.” He eyed Button-Bright rather sharply, as if afraid of the little boy’s queer head, though it was the shaggy man who undertook to reply.
“Most noble and supreme ruler of Dunkiton,” he said, trying not to laugh in the solemn King’s face, “we are strangers traveling through your dominions and have entered your magnificent city because the road led through it, and there was no way to go around. All we desire is to pay our respects to your Majesty—the cleverest king in all the world, I’m sure—and then to continue on our way.”
This polite speech pleased the King very much; indeed, it pleased him so much that it proved an unlucky speech for the shaggy man. Perhaps the Love Magnet helped to win his Majesty’s affections as well as the flattery, but however this may be, the white donkey looked kindly upon the speaker and said:
“Only a donkey should be able to use such fine, big words, and you are too wise and admirable in all ways to be a mere man. Also, I feel that I love you as well as I do my own favored people, so I will bestow upon you the greatest gift within my power—a donkey’s head.”
As he spoke he waved his jeweled staff. Although the shaggy man cried out and tried to leap backward and escape, it proved of no use. Suddenly his own head was gone and a donkey head appeared in its place—a brown, shaggy head so absurd and droll that Dorothy and Polly both broke into merry laughter, and even Button-Bright’s fox face wore a smile.
“Dear me! dear me!” cried the shaggy man, feeling of his shaggy new head and his long ears. “What a misfortune—what a great misfortune! Give me back my own head, you stupid king—if you love me at all!”
“Don’t you like it?” asked the King, surprised.
“Hee-haw! I hate it! Take it away, quick!” said the shaggy man.
“But I can’t do that,” was the reply. “My magic works only one way. I can DO things, but I can’t UNdo them. You’ll have to find the Truth Pond, and bathe in its water, in order to get back your own head. But I advise you not to do that. This head is much more beautiful than the old one.”
“That’s a matter of taste,” said Dorothy.
“Where is the Truth Pond?” asked the shaggy man, earnestly.
“Somewhere in the Land of Oz; but just the exact location of it I can not tell,” was the answer.
“Don’t worry, Shaggy Man,” said Dorothy, smiling because her friend wagged his new ears so comically. “If the Truth Pond is in Oz, we’ll be sure to find it when we get there.”
“Oh! Are you going to the Land of Oz?” asked King Kik-a-bray.
“I don’t know,” she replied, “but we’ve been told we are nearer the Land of Oz than to Kansas, and if that’s so, the quickest way for me to get home is to find Ozma.”
“Haw-haw! Do you know the mighty Princess Ozma?” asked the King, his tone both surprised and eager.
“‘Course I do; she’s my friend,” said Dorothy.
“Then perhaps you’ll do me a favor,” continued the white donkey, much excited.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Perhaps you can get me an invitation to Princess Ozma’s birthday celebration, which will be the grandest royal function ever held in Fairyland. I’d love to go.”
“Hee-haw! You deserve punishment, rather than reward, for giving me this dreadful head,” said the shaggy man, sorrowfully.
“I wish you wouldn’t say ‘hee-haw’ so much,” Polychrome begged him; “it makes cold chills run down my back.”
“But I can’t help it, my dear; my donkey head wants to bray continually,” he replied. “Doesn’t your fox head want to yelp every minute?” he asked Button-Bright.
“Don’t know,” said the boy, still staring at the shaggy man’s ears. These seemed to interest him greatly, and the sight also made him forget his own fox head, which was a comfort.
“What do you think, Polly? Shall I promise the donkey king an invitation to Ozma’s party?” asked Dorothy of the Rainbow’s Daughter, who was flitting about the room like a sunbeam because she could never keep still.
“Do as you please, dear,” answered Polychrome. “He might help to amuse the guests of the Princess.”
