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THE SCARECROW of OZ

LIST OF CHAPTERS

1 - The Great Whirlpool
2 - The Cavern Under the Sea
3 - The Ork
4 - Daylight at Last
5 - The Little Old Man of the Island
6 - The Flight of the Midgets
7 - The Bumpy Man
8 - Button-Bright is Lost, and Found Again
9 - The Kingdom of Jinxland
10 - Pon, the Gardener's Boy
11 - The Wicked King and Googly-Goo
12 - The Wooden-Legged Grass-Hopper
13 - Glinda the Good and the Scarecrow of Oz
14 - The Frozen Heart
15 - Trot Meets the Scarecrow
16 - Pon Summons the King to Surrender
17 - The Ork Rescues Button-Bright
18 - The Scarecrow Meets an Enemy
19 - The Conquest of the Witch
20 - Queen Gloria
21 - Dorothy, Betsy and Ozma
22 - The Waterfall
23 - The Land of Oz
24 - The Royal Reception

Chapter One

The Great Whirlpool

"Seems to me," said Cap'n Bill, as he sat beside Trot under the big
acacia tree, looking out over the blue ocean, "seems to me, Trot, as
how the more we know, the more we find we don't know."

"I can't quite make that out, Cap'n Bill," answered the little girl in
a serious voice, after a moment's thought, during which her eyes
followed those of the old sailor-man across the glassy surface of the
sea. "Seems to me that all we learn is jus' so much gained."

"I know; it looks that way at first sight," said the sailor, nodding
his head; "but those as knows the least have a habit of thinkin' they
know all there is to know, while them as knows the most admits what a
turr'ble big world this is. It's the knowing ones that realize one
lifetime ain't long enough to git more'n a few dips o' the oars of
knowledge."

Trot didn't answer. She was a very little girl, with big, solemn eyes
and an earnest, simple manner. Cap'n Bill had been her faithful
companion for years and had taught her almost everything she knew.

He was a wonderful man, this Cap'n Bill. Not so very old, although his
hair was grizzled--what there was of it. Most of his head was bald as
an egg and as shiny as oilcloth, and this made his big ears stick out
in a funny way. His eyes had a gentle look and were pale blue in color,
and his round face was rugged and bronzed. Cap'n Bill's left leg was
missing, from the knee down, and that was why the sailor no longer
sailed the seas. The wooden leg he wore was good enough to stump around
with on land, or even to take Trot out for a row or a sail on the
ocean, but when it came to "runnin' up aloft" or performing active
duties on shipboard, the old sailor was not equal to the task. The loss
of his leg had ruined his career and the old sailor found comfort in
devoting himself to the education and companionship of the little girl.

The accident to Cap'n Bill's leg bad happened at about the time Trot
was born, and ever since that he had lived with Trot's mother as "a
star boarder," having enough money saved up to pay for his weekly
"keep." He loved the baby and often held her on his lap; her first
ride was on Cap'n Bill's shoulders, for she had no baby-carriage; and
when she began to toddle around, the child and the sailor became close
comrades and enjoyed many strange adventures together. It is said the
fairies had been present at Trot's birth and had marked her forehead
with their invisible mystic signs, so that she was able to see and do
many wonderful things.

The acacia tree was on top of a high bluff, but a path ran down the
bank in a zigzag way to the water's edge, where Cap'n Bill's boat was
moored to a rock by means of a stout cable. It had been a hot, sultry
afternoon, with scarcely a breath of air stirring, so Cap'n Bill and
Trot had been quietly sitting beneath the shade of the tree, waiting
for the sun to get low enough for them to take a row.

They had decided to visit one of the great caves which the waves had
washed out of the rocky coast during many years of steady effort. The
caves were a source of continual delight to both the girl and the
sailor, who loved to explore their awesome depths.

"I b'lieve, Cap'n," remarked Trot, at last, "that it's time for us to
start."

The old man cast a shrewd glance at the sky, the sea and the motionless
boat. Then he shook his head.

"Mebbe it's time, Trot," he answered, "but I don't jes' like the looks
o' things this afternoon."

"What's wrong?" she asked wonderingly.

"Can't say as to that. Things is too quiet to suit me, that's all. No
breeze, not a ripple a-top the water, nary a gull a-flyin' anywhere,
an' the end o' the hottest day o' the year. I ain't no weather-prophet,
Trot, but any sailor would know the signs is ominous."

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THE SCARECROW of OZ