<SPAN name="startofbook"></SPAN>
<h1>KABUMPO <br/>IN OZ</h1>
<p class="center"><span class="smaller">BY</span>
<br/>RUTH PLUMLY THOMPSON</p>
<hr>
<h2 id="c1"><span class="smaller">Chapter 1</span> <br/>The Exploding Birthday Cake</h2>
<p>“The cake, you chattering Chittimong! Where is the
cake? Stirem, Friem, Hashem, <i>where</i> is the
cake?” cried Eejabo, chief footman in the palace of
Pumperdink, bouncing into the royal pantry.</p>
<p>The three cooks, too astonished for speech, and with
staring eyes, pointed to the center table. The great,
gorgeous birthday cake was gone, though not two seconds
before it had been placed on the table by Hashem
himself.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_16">16</div>
<p>“It was my m-m-asterpiece,” sobbed Hashem, tearing
off his cap and throwing his apron over his head.</p>
<p>“Help! Robbers! Thieves!” cried Stirem and
Friem, running to the window.</p>
<p>Here <i>was</i> a howdedo. The trumpets blowing for the
celebration to begin and the best part of the celebration
gone!</p>
<p>“We’ll all be dipped for this!” wailed Eejabo, flinging
open the second best china closet so violently that
three silver cups and a pewter mug tumbled out. Just
then there was a scream from Hashem, who had
removed the apron from his head. “Look!” he shrieked.
“There it is!”</p>
<p>Back to the table rushed the other three, Stirem and
Friem rubbing their eyes and Eejabo his head where
the cups had bumped him severely. Upon the table
stood the royal cake, as pink and perfect as ever.</p>
<p>“It was there all the time, mince my eyebrows!”
spluttered Hashem in an injured voice. “Called me a
Chittimong, did you?” Grasping a big wooden spoon
he ran angrily at Eejabo.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_17">17</div>
<p>“Was it gone or wasn’t it?” cried Eejabo, appealing
to the others and hastily catching up a bread knife to
defend himself. Instantly there arose a babble.</p>
<p>“It was!”</p>
<p>“It wasn’t!”</p>
<p>“Was!” Rap, bang, <i>clatter</i>. In a minute they were
in a furious argument, not only with words but with
spoons, forks and bowls. And dear knows what would
have become of the cake had not a bell rung loudly
and the second footman poked his head through the
door.</p>
<p>“The cake! Where is the cake?” he wheezed importantly.</p>
<p>So Eejabo, dodging three cups and a salt cellar,
seized the great silver platter and dashed into the great
banquet hall. One pink coat tail was missing and his
wig was somewhat elevated over the left ear from the
lump raised by the pewter mug, but he summoned
what dignity he could and joined the grand procession
of footmen who were bearing gold and silver dishes
filled with goodies for the birthday feast of Prince
Pompadore of Pumperdink.</p>
<p>The royal guests were already assembled and just as
Eejabo entered, the pages blew a shrill blast upon their
silver trumpets and the Prime Pumper stepped forward
to announce their Majesties.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_18">18</div>
<p>“Oyez! Oyez!” shouted the Prime Pumper, pounding
on the floor with his silver staff, while the guests
politely inclined their heads just as if they had not
heard the same announcement dozens of times before:</p>
<p>“Oyez! Oyez!</p>
<div class="verse">
<p class="t0">“Pompus the Proud</p>
<p class="t0">And Pozy Pink,</p>
<p class="t0">King and Queen</p>
<p class="t0">Of Pumperdink—</p>
<p class="t0">Way for the King</p>
<p class="t0">And clear the floor,</p>
<p class="t0">Way for our good</p>
<p class="t0">Prince Pompadore.</p>
<p class="t0">Way for the Elegant</p>
<p class="t0">Elephant—Way</p>
<p class="t0">For the King and</p>
<p class="t0">The Queen and the</p>
<p class="t0">Prince, I say!”</p>
</div>
<p>So everybody <i>wayed</i>, which is to say they bowed, and
down the center of the room swept Pompus, very fat
and gorgeous in his purple robes and jeweled crown,
and Pozy Pink, very stately and queenlike in her
ermine cloak, and Prince Pompadore very straight and
handsome! In fact, they looked exactly as a good old-fashioned
royal family should.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_19">19</div>
<div class="fig"> <ANTIMG src="images/i_017.jpg" alt="Pumperdink" width-obs="500" height-obs="777" /></div>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_20">20</div>
<p>But Kabumpo, who swayed along grandly after the
Prince—few royal families could boast of so royal and
elegant an elephant! He was huge and gray. On his
head he wore jeweled bands and a jeweled court robe
billowed out majestically as he walked. His little eyes
twinkled merrily and his big ears flapped so sociably,
that just to look at him put one in a good humor.
Kabumpo was the only elephant in Pumperdink, or in
any Kingdom near Pumperdink, so no wonder he was
a prime favorite at Court. He had been given to the
King at Pompa’s christening by a friendly stranger
and since then had enjoyed every luxury and advantage.
He was not only treated as a member of the royal
family, but was always addressed as <i>Sir</i> by all of the
palace servants.</p>
<p>“He lends an air of elegance to our Court,” the King
was fond of saying, and the Elegant Elephant he
surely had become. Now an Elegant Elephant at
Court might seem strange in a regular up-to-date
country, but Pumperdink is not at all regular nor up
to date. It is a cozy, old-fashioned Kingdom, ’way up
in the northern part of the Gilliken country of Oz; old-fashioned
enough to wear knee breeches and have a
King and cozy enough to still enjoy birthday parties
and candy pulls.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_21">21</div>
<p>If Pompus, the King, was a bit proud who could
blame him? His Queen was the loveliest, his son the
most charming and his elephant the most elegant and
unusual for twenty Kingdoms round about. And
Pompus, for all his pride, had a very simple way of
ruling. When the Pumperdinkians did right they
were rewarded; when they did wrong they were
dipped.</p>
<p>In the very center of the courtyard there is a great
stone well with a huge stone bucket. Into this Pumperdink
well all offenders and law breakers were lowered.
Its waters were dark blue and as the color stuck to one
for several days the inhabitants of Pumperdink were
careful to behave well, so that the Chief Dipper, who
turned the wheel that raised and lowered the bucket,
often had days at a time with nothing to do. This time
he spent in writing poetry, and as Prince Pompadore
took the place of honor at the head of the table the
Chief Dipper rose from his humble place at the foot
and with a moist flourish burst forth:</p>
<div class="verse">
<p class="t0">“Oh, Pompadore of Pumperdink,</p>
<p class="t0">Of all perfection you’re the pink;</p>
<p class="t2">Your praises now I utter!</p>
<p class="t0">Your eyes are clear as apple sauce,</p>
<p class="t0">Your head the best I’ve come across;</p>
<p class="t2">Your heart is soft as butter.”</p>
</div>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_22">22</div>
<p>“Very good,” said the King, and the Chief Dipper
sat down, blushing with pride and confusion. Prince
Pompadore bowed and the rest of the party clapped
tremendously.</p>
<p>“Sounds like a dipper full of nonsense to me,”
wheezed Kabumpo, who stood directly back of Prince
Pompadore’s throne, leisurely consuming a bale of
hay placed on the floor beside him. It may surprise
you to know that all the animals in Oz can talk, but
such is the case, and Pumperdink being in the fairy
country of Oz, Kabumpo could talk as well as any man
and better than most.</p>
<p>“Eyes like apple sauce—heart of butter! Ho-ho, kerrumph!”
The Elegant Elephant laughed so hard he
shook all over; then slyly reaching over the Prime
Pumper’s shoulder, he snatched his glass of pink lemonade
and emptied it down his great throat, setting the
tumbler back before the old fellow turned his head.</p>
<p>“Did you call, Sir?” asked Eejabo, hurrying over.
He had mistaken Kabumpo’s laugh for a command.</p>
<p>“Yes; why did you not give his Excellency lemonade?”
demanded the Elegant Elephant sternly.</p>
<p>“I did; he must have drunk it, Sir!” stuttered
Eejabo.</p>
<p>“Drunk it!” cried the Prime Pumper, pounding on
the table indignantly. “I never had any!”</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_23">23</div>
<p>“Fetch him a glass at once,” rumbled Kabumpo,
waving his trunk, and Eejabo, too wise to argue with
a member of the royal family, brought another glass
of lemonade. But no sooner had he done so than the
mischievous elephant stole that, next the Prime Pumper’s
plate and roll, and all so quickly, no one but Prince
Pompadore knew what was happening and poor
Eejabo was kept running backwards and forwards till
his wig stood on end with confusion and rage.</p>
<p>All of this was very amusing to the Prince, and
helped him to listen pleasantly to the fifteen long
birthday speeches addressed to him by members of
the Royal Guard. But if the speeches were dull, the
dinner was not. The fiddlers fiddled so merrily, and
the chief cook Hashem had so outdone himself in the
preparation of new and delicious dainties, that by ice-cream-and-cake
time everyone was in a high good
humor.</p>
<p>“The cake, my good Eejabo! Fetch forth the cake!”
commanded King Pompus, beaming fondly upon his
son. Nervously Eejabo stepped to the side table and
lighted the eighteen tall birthday candles. A cake
that had disappeared once might easily do so again,
and Eejabo was anxious to have it cut and out of the
way—out of <i>his</i> way at least.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_24">24</div>
<p>Hashem, looking through a tiny crack in the door,
almost burst with pride as his gorgeous pink masterpiece
was set down before the Prince.</p>
<p>“Many happy returns of your eighteenth birthday!”
cried the Courtiers, jumping to their feet and waving
their napkins enthusiastically.</p>
<p>“Thank you! Thank you!” chuckled Pompadore,
bowing low. “I feel that this is but one of many more
to come!” Which may sound strange, but Pumperdink
being in Oz, one may have as many eighteenth
birthdays as one cares to have. This was Pompa’s
tenth and while the courtiers drank his health the
Prince made ready to blow out the birthday candles.</p>
<p>“That’s right, blow ’em all out at once!” cried the
King. So Pompa puffed out his cheeks and blew with
all his might. But not a candle flickered. Then he
tried again. Indeed, he puffed and blew until he was
a regular royal purple, but nary a candle flame so
much as wavered.</p>
<p>“Stubbornest candles I ever saw!” blustered King
Pompus. Then <i>he</i> puffed out his cheeks and blew like
a porpoise; so did Queen Pozy and the Prime Pumper;
so did everybody. They blew until every dish upon
the table skipped and they all sank back exhausted in
their chairs, but the candles burned as merrily as ever.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_25">25</div>
<p>Then Kabumpo took a hand—or rather a trunk.
He had been watching the proceedings with his
twinkling little eyes. Now he took a tremendous
breath, pointed his trunk straight at the cake and
blew with all his strength.</p>
<div class="fig"> <ANTIMG src="images/i_023.jpg" alt="(unlabelled)" width-obs="600" height-obs="408" /></div>
<p>Every candle went out—but <i>stars</i>! As they did, the
great pink cake exploded with such force that half the
Courtiers were flung under the table and the rest
knocked unconscious by flying fragments of icing,
tumblers and plates.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_26">26</div>
<p>“<i>Treason!</i>” screamed Pompus, the first to recover
from the shock. “Who dared put gunpowder in the
cake?” Brushing the icing from his nose, he glared
around angrily. The first person to catch his eye was
Hashem, the cook, who stood trembling in the doorway.</p>
<p>“<i>Dip him!</i>” shouted the King furiously. And the
Chief Dipper, only too glad of an excuse to escape,
seized poor Hashem. “<i>And him!</i>” ordered the King,
as Eejabo tried to sidle out of the room. “<i>And them!</i>”
as all the other footmen started to run. Forming his
victims in a line the Chief Dipper marched them
sternly from the banquet hall.</p>
<p>“Oyez! Oyez Everybody shall be dipped!” mumbled
the Prime Pumper, feebly raising his head.</p>
<p>“Oh, no! Oh, no! Nothing of the sort!” snapped
the King, fanning poor Queen Pozy Pink with a plate.
She had fainted dead away.</p>
<p>“What is the meaning of this outrage?” shouted
Pompus, his anger rising again.</p>
<p>“How should I know?” wheezed Kabumpo, dragging
Prince Pompadore from beneath the table and
pouring a jug of cream over his head.</p>
<p>“Something hit me,” moaned the Prince, opening
his eyes.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_27">27</div>
<p>“Of course it did!” said Kabumpo. “The cake hit
you. Made a great hit with us all—that cake!” The
Elegant Elephant looked ruefully at his silk robe of
state, which was hopelessly smeared with icing; then
put his trunk to his head, for something hard had
struck him between the eyes. He felt about the floor
and found a round shiny object which he was about to
show the King when Pompus pounced upon a tall
scroll sitting upright in his tumbler. In the confusion
of the moment it had escaped his attention.</p>
<p>“Perhaps this will explain,” spluttered the King,
breaking the seal. Queen Pozy Pink opened her eyes
with a sigh, and the Courtiers, crawling out from
beneath the table, looked up anxiously, for everyone
was still dazed from the tremendous explosion. Pompus
read the scroll to himself with popping eyes and
then began to dance up and down in a frenzy.</p>
<p>“What is it? What is it?” cried the Queen, trying
to read over his shoulder. Then she gave a well-bred
scream and fainted away in the arms of General
Quakes, who had come up behind her.</p>
<p>By this time the Prime Pumper had recovered sufficiently
to remember that reading scrolls and court
papers was his business. Somewhat unsteadily he
walked over and took the scroll from the King.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_28">28</div>
<p>“Oyez! Oyez!” he faltered, pounding on the table.</p>
<p>“Oh, never mind that!” rumbled Kabumpo, flagging
his ears. “Let’s hear what it says!”</p>
<div class="fig"> <ANTIMG src="images/i_026.jpg" alt="(unlabelled)" width-obs="600" height-obs="452" /></div>
<p>“Know ye,” began the old man in a high, shaky
voice, “know ye that unless ye Prince of ye ancient
and honorable Kingdom of Pumperdink wed ye Proper
Fairy Princess in ye proper span of time ye Kingdom
of Pumperdink shall disappear forever and <i>even longer</i>
from ye Gilliken country of Oz.
<span class="jr"><i>J. G.</i>”</span></p>
<p>“What?” screamed Pompadore, bounding to his feet.
“Me? But I don’t <i>want</i> to marry!”</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_29">29</div>
<p>“You’ll have to,” groaned the King, with a wave at
the scroll. The Courtiers sat staring at one another
in dazed disbelief. From the courtyard came the
splash and splutter of the luckless footmen and the
dismal creaking of the stone bucket.</p>
<p>“Oh!” wailed Pompa, throwing up his hands. “This
is the worst eighteenth birthday I’ve ever had. I’ll
never have another as long as I live!”</p>
<div class="fig"> <ANTIMG src="images/i_027.jpg" alt="(unlabelled)" width-obs="505" height-obs="400" /></div>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_30">30</div>
<div class="fig"> <ANTIMG src="images/i_028.jpg" alt="(unlabelled)" width-obs="500" height-obs="539" /></div>
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