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Kabumpo in Oz (version 2)

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<h2 id="c2">Chapter 2 Picking a Proper Princess</h2> “What shall we do first?” groaned the King, holding his head with both hands. “Let me think!” “Right,” said Kabumpo. “Think by all means.” So the great hall was cleared and the King, with the mysterious scroll spread out before him, thought and thought and thought. But he did not make much 31 headway, for, as he explained over and over to Queen Pozy, who—with Pompadore, the Elegant Elephant and the Prime Pumper—had remained to help him, “How is one to know where to find the Proper Princess, and how is one to know the proper time for Pompa to wed her?” Who was J.G.? How did the scroll get in the cake? The more the King thought about these questions, the more wrinkled his forehead became. “Why! We’re liable to wake up any morning and find ourselves gone,” he announced gloomily. “How does it feel to disappear, I wonder?” “I suppose it would give one rather a gone feeling, but I don’t believe it would hurt—much!” volunteered Kabumpo, glancing uneasily over his shoulder. “Perhaps not, but it would not get us anywhere. My idea is to marry the Prince at once to a Proper Princess,” put in the Prime Pumper, “and avoid all this disappearing.” “You’re in a great hurry to marry me off, aren’t you,” said Pompadore sulkily. “For my part, I don’t want to marry at all!” “Well, that’s very selfish of you, Pompa,” said the King in a grieved voice. “Do you want your poor old father to disappear?” <div class="pagenum" id="Page_32">32</div> “Not only your poor old father,” choked the Prime Pumper, rolling up his eyes. “How about me?” “Oh, you—you can disappear any time you want,” said the Prince unfeelingly. “It all started with that wretched cake,” sighed the Queen. “I am positive the scroll flew out of the cake when it exploded.” “Of course it did!” cried Pompus. “Let us send for the cook and question him.” So Hashem, very wet and blue from his dip, was brought before the King. “A fine cook you are!” roared Pompus, “mixing gun powder and scrolls in a birthday cake.” “But I didn’t,” wailed Hashem, falling on his knees. “Only eggs, your Highness—very best eggs—sugar, flour, spice and—” “Bombshells!” cried the King angrily. “The cake disappeared before the party, your Majesty!” cried Eejabo. Everyone jumped at the sudden interruption, and Eejabo, who had crept in unnoticed, stepped before the throne. “Disappeared,” continued Eejabo hoarsely, dripping blue water all over the royal rugs. “One minute there it was on the pantry table. Next minute—gone!” croaked Eejabo, flinging up his hands and shrugging his shoulders. <div class="pagenum" id="Page_33">33</div> “Then, before a fellow could turn around, it was back. ’Tweren’t our fault if magic got mixed into it, and here we have been dipped for nothing!” “Well, why didn’t you say so before!” asked the King in exasperation. “Fine chance I had to say anything!” sniffed Eejabo, wringing out his lace ruffles. “Eh—rr—you may have the day off, my good man,” said Pompus, with an apologetic cough—“And you also,” with a wave at Hashem. Very stiffly the two walked to the door. “It’s an off day for us, all right,” said Eejabo ungraciously, and without so much as a bow the two disappeared. “I fear you were a bit hasty, my love,” murmured Queen Pozy, looking after them with a troubled little frown. “Well, who wouldn’t be!” cried Pompus, ruffling up his hair. “Here we are liable to disappear any minute and all you do is to stand around and criticize me. Begone!” he puffed angrily, as a page stuck his head in the door. <div class="pagenum" id="Page_34">34</div> “No use shouting at people to begone,” said the Elegant Elephant testily. “We’ll all begone soon enough.” At this Queen Pozy began to weep into her silk handkerchief, which sight so affected Prince Pompadore that he rushed forward and embraced her tenderly. “I’ll marry!” cried the Prince impulsively. “I’ll do anything! The trouble is there aren’t any Fairy Princesses around here!” “There must be,” said the King. “There is—There are!” screamed the Prime Pumper, bouncing up suddenly. “Oyez, Oyez! Has your Majesty forgotten Faleero, royal Princess of Follensby forest?” “Why, of course!” The King snapped his fingers joyfully. “Everyone says Faleero is a Fairy Princess. She must be the proper one!” “Fa—leero!” trumpeted the Elegant Elephant, sitting down with a terrific thud. “That awful old creature! You ought to be ashamed of yourself!” “Silence!” thundered the King. “Nonsense!” trumpeted Kabumpo. “She’s a thousand years old and as ugly as a stone Lukoogoo. Don’t you marry her, Pompa.” <div class="pagenum" id="Page_35">35</div> “I command him to marry her!” cried the King opening his eyes very wide and bending forward. <div class="fig"> <ANTIMG src="images/i_033.jpg" alt="(unlabelled)" width-obs="600" height-obs="419" /></div> “Faleero?” gasped the Prince, scarcely believing his ears. No wonder Pompadore was shocked. Faleero, although a Princess in her own right and of royal fairy descent, was so unattractive that in all her thousand years of life no one had wished to marry her. She lived in a small hut in the great forest kingdom next to Pumperdink and did nothing all day but gather faggots. Her face was long and lean, her hair thin and black and her nose so large that it made you think of a cauliflower. <div class="pagenum" id="Page_36">36</div> “Ugh!” groaned Prince Pompadore, falling back on Kabumpo for support. “Well, she’s a Princess and a fairy—the only one in any Kingdom. I don’t see why you want to be so fussy!” said the King fretfully. “Shall I tell her Royal Highness of the great good fortune that has befallen her?” asked the Prime Pumper, starting for the door. “Do so at once,” snapped Pompus. Just then he gave a scream of fright and pain, for a round shiny object had flown through the air and struck him on the head. “What was that?” The Prime Pumper looked suspiciously at the Elegant Elephant. Kabumpo glared back. “A—a warning!” stuttered the Prime Pumper, afraid to say that Kabumpo had flung the offending missile. “A warning, your Majesty!” “It’s nothing of the kind,” said the King angrily. “You’re getting old, Pumper and stupid. It’s—why it’s a door knob! Who dares to hit me with a door knob?” “It hit me once,” mumbled Kabumpo, shifting uneasily from one foot to the other three. “How does it strike you?” <div class="pagenum" id="Page_37">37</div> “As an outrageous piece of impertinence!” spluttered Pompus, turning as red as a turkey cock. “Perhaps it has something to do with the scroll,” suggested Queen Pozy, taking it from the King. “See! It is gold and all the door knobs in the palace are ivory. And look! Here are some initials!” Sure enough! It was gold and in the very centre were the initials P. A. Just at this interesting juncture the page, who had been poking his head in the door every few minutes, gathered his courage together and rushed up to the King. “Pardon, Most High Highness, but General Quakes bade me say that this mirror was found under the window,” stuttered the page, and before Pompus had an opportunity to cry “Begone!” or “Dip him!” the little fellow made a dash for the door and disappeared. “It grows more puzzling every minute,” wailed the King, looking from the door knob to the mirror and from the mirror to the scroll. “If you take my advice you’ll have this marriage performed at once,” said the Prime Pumper in a trembling voice. “I believe I will!” sighed Pompus, rubbing the bump on his head. “Go and fetch the Princess Faleero and you, Pompa, prepare for your wedding.” <div class="pagenum" id="Page_38">38</div> “But Father!” began the Prince. “Not another word or you’ll be dipped!” rumbled the King of Pumperdink. “I’m not going to have my kingdom disappearing if I can help it!” “You mean if I can help it,” muttered Pompadore gloomily. “This is ridiculous!” stormed the Elegant Elephant, as the Prime Pumper rushed importantly out of the room. “Don’t you know that this country of ours is only a small part of the great Kingdom of Oz? There must be hundreds of Princesses for Pompadore to choose from. Why should he not wed Ozma, the princess of us all? Haven’t you read any Oz history? Have you never heard of the wonderful Emerald City? Let Pompadore start out at once. I, myself, will accompany him, and if Ozma refuses to marry him—well”—the Elegant Elephant drew himself up—“I will carry her off—that’s all!” “It’s a long way to the Emerald City,” mused Queen Pozy, “but still—” “Yes, and what is to become of us in the meantime pray? While you are wandering all over Oz we can disappear I suppose! No Sir! Not one step do you go out of Pumperdink. Faleero is the Proper Princess and Pompadore shall marry her!” said Pompus. <div class="pagenum" id="Page_39">39</div> “You’re talking through your crown,” wheezed Kabumpo. “How about the door knob and mirror? They came out of the cake as well as the scroll. What are you going to do about them? Let’s have a look at that mirror.” “Just a common gold mirror,” fumed Pompus, holding it up for the Elegant Elephant to see. “What’s the matter?” as Kabumpo gave a snort. On the face of the mirror, as Kabumpo looked in, two words appeared: <div class="box"> Elegant Elephant. </div> And when Pompus snatched the mirror, above his reflection stood the words: <div class="box"> Fat Old King. </div> Then Queen Pozy peeped into the mirror, which promptly flashed: <div class="box"> Lovely Queen. </div> <div class="pagenum" id="Page_40">40</div> “Why, it’s telling the truth!” screamed Pompa, looking over his mother’s shoulder. At this the words “Charming Prince” formed quickly in the glass. The Prince grinned at his father, who was now quite beside himself with rage. “You think I’m fat and old, do you!” snorted the King, flinging the gold mirror face down on the table. “This is a nice day, I must say! Scrolls, door knobs, mirrors and insults!” “But what can P. A. stand for?” mused Queen Pozy thoughtfully. “Plain enough,” chuckled Kabumpo, maliciously. “It stands for perfectly awful!” “Who’s perfectly awful?” asked Pompus suspiciously. “Why, Faleero,” sniffed the Elegant Elephant. “That’s plain enough to everybody!” “Dip him!” shrieked Pompus. “I’ve had enough of this! Dip him—do you hear?” “That,” yawned Kabumpo, straightening his silk robe, “is impossible!” And, considering his size it was. But just that minute the Prime Pumper returned and in his interest to hear what the Princess Faleero had said the King forgot about dipping Kabumpo. The courier from the Princess stepped forward. <div class="pagenum" id="Page_41">41</div> “Her Highness,” puffed the Prime Pumper, who had run all the way, “Her Highness accepts Prince Pompadore with pleasure and will marry him to-morrow morning.” Prince Pompadore gave a dismal groan. “Fine!” cried the King, rubbing his hands together. “Let everything be made ready for the ceremony, and in the meantime”—Pompus glared about fiercely—“I forbid anyone’s disappearing. I am still the King! Set a guard around the castle, Pumper, to watch for any signs of disappearance, and if so much as a fence paling disappears”—he drew himself up—“notify me at once!” Then turning to the throne Pompus gave his arm to Queen Pozy and together they started for the garden. “Do you mean to say you are going to pay no attention to the mirror or door knob?” cried Kabumpo, planting himself in the King’s path. “Go away,” said Pompus crossly. “Oyez! Oyez! Way for their Majesties!” cried the Prime Pumper, running ahead with his silver staff, and the royal couple swept out of the banquet hall. “Never mind, Kabumpo,” said the Prince, flinging his arm affectionately around the Elegant Elephant’s trunk, “I dare say Faleero has her good points—and we cannot let the old Kingdom disappear, you know!” <div class="pagenum" id="Page_42">42</div> <div class="fig"> <ANTIMG src="images/i_040.jpg" alt="“Flinging his arms affectionately around the Elegant Elephant’s trunk”" width-obs="500" height-obs="746" /> “Flinging his arms affectionately around the Elegant Elephant’s trunk” </div> <div class="pagenum" id="Page_43">43</div> “Fiddlesticks!” choked Kabumpo. “She’ll make a door mat of you, Pompa—Prince Pompadormat—that’s what you’ll be! Let’s run away!” he proposed, his little eyes twinkling anxiously. “I couldn’t do that and let the Kingdom disappear, it wouldn’t be right,” sighed the Prince, and sadly he followed his parents into the royal gardens. “The King’s a Gooch!” gulped the Elegant Elephant unhappily. Then, all at once he flung up his trunk. “Somebody’s going to disappear around here,” he wheezed darkly, “that’s certain!” With a mighty rustling of his silk robe, Kabumpo hurried off to his own royal quarters in the palace. Left alone, Prince Pompa threw himself down at the foot of the throne, and gazed sadly into space. <div class="pagenum" id="Page_44">44</div> <div class="fig"> <ANTIMG src="images/i_042.jpg" alt="(unlabelled)" width-obs="500" height-obs="532" /></div> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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